The Best Sight in London
by 1tT4k3sTw0
Summary: In this current day AU, Alfred and his half-brother, Matthew, take a trip to London, England for the summer. While there, Alfred befriends a stressed out and overworked local Englishman, Arthur, and over the summer they grow continuously closer. However, will an ex create bumps along the way? And will this summer fling become anything more than just that? UsUK/Franada
1. Chapter 1

Hey Guys! So this is the FIRST chapter up for our FIRST fanfiction! yaaaaay! We hope you enjoy~

Ch. 1:

"Dude check this _out_," Alfred jumped onto the thick, maroon leather couch. "This summer is gonna be EPIC!"

Matthew sighed as he watched his overly energetic half-brother jump around the hotel room like a little kid.

Alfred's mother had won a drawing to win an all-expenses paid trip to London, England for the summer. She and Alfred's father weren't able to make the trip, so decided the boys would enjoy it. She had been right about Alfred; he had been all too excited to have an adventure in a foreign place. Matthew, however, would've liked to stay home.

Alfred knew this, and that's why he begged his brother to come. Matthew had never been an overly cheerful kid; not since Dad had brought him home one day.

Their father had been a…social man. Having plenty of fun in his youth before he met Alfred's mom. True, it took them quite a while, but when she became pregnant with Alfred, the two married and were pretty happy together.

However, one of Alfred's father's late, one-night stands came back to visit him. Turns out, he had a son he hadn't known about and whose mother had passed away, leaving Alfred's Dad his only family. They had taken him in without question and raised him as one of their own. Matthew loved them, but always did feel like he belonged elsewhere.

But that was why they were in London. They were here to spread their wings and roam.

"Isn't this great, Mattie?" Alfred asked as he checked out their rooms and adjoining bathrooms. "I could swim in this tub!"

"That's neat," Matthew replied quietly, placing his suitcases on the floor and sitting down on a leather chair. He stretched and yawned; his eyes rimmed with exhaustion,

"Man, that was a long flight…" he groaned, running a tired hand over his face. "I could sleep all summer."

"Uh-_no_."

Alfred was suddenly at his brother's side and dragged him to his feet.

"We are both going out and having some fun! No brother of mine, especially one who shares my amazing good looks, is gonna spend all summer cooped up in his room! Especially if he's in London! I want to take pictures of the Eiffel Tower!"

Matthew looked with pity at his brother, "London isn't Paris; you know that right?"

"Close enough!" Alfred said, grabbing the sneakers Matthew had taken off.

"Put these on and grab your camera and some snacks! We are going sightseeing!"

"Alfred," he whined, "We just got off a plane, can't we relax a bit? We have all summer to see the sights…"

"And you have all summer to relax," Alfred shot back, already having his travel bag (stuffed mainly with junk food) on his shoulder.

"But first, my brother and I are gonna spend some casual time together!"

Matthew let out another sigh, knowing it was pointless to resist. If he tried, Alfred would either nag him till his ears bled or throw him over his shoulder and carry him outside. Neither was appealing, so he simply nodded.

"All right, all right. One quick look down the block then we're coming back and I'm sleeping until tomorrow afternoon."

"Come on, you jerk! Play with me!"

Arthur held back a groan as his baby brother continued to pester him, pulling at his sleeve and whining in that irritating voice.

"I'm so _bored_! Stop doing that boring home work and play soldiers with me!

"Peter," Arthur growled, glaring down at him from where he sat on the couch. "Aren't you getting a little too old to play with dolls?"

"I'm only nine!" Peter replied haughtily. "Plus, they are action figures! Not dolls."

"I don't care what they are, I'm working." Arthur snapped. Standing up and taking his school work with him.

Arthur Kirkland was the son of a famous British politician, and the only of four sons who cared to uphold the family's reputation and honor. His eldest brother, Allistor, was a wild card with flaming red hair, a cigarette in his mouth 24/7, and always out getting blitzed. The second oldest, Dylan, while not as crazy as Allistor, was still too spontaneous and often talked of running away to the rolling grasslands of their home and taking a country life. Then, there was Peter. Annoying, whining, little Peter who didn't think about what he would do in the next minute, never mind the next day. True, he was only nine, but, seeing as he listened to Allistor and Dylan more than Arthur, Arthur could guess where the boy's path would lead.

So that left him to make their father proud.

"Uh-oh," a familiar accented voice came from the hallway and Arthur groaned as Allistor, in wrinkled clothes and a cigar in his mouth, waltzed in and leaned on the doorway, "Peter, did you make your big sister upset again?"

"Allistor!" Peter's eyes brightened and he raced over to wrap his arms around his tall brother's leg, "He won't play with me!"

"You'll have to forgive, Alice," Allistor cooed, patting Peter's head, "You know how serious and grumpy she gets."

"Well, forgive me," Arthur's voice dripped with sarcasm, "But one of us needs to work on their future."

"It's not our fault you chose boring politics." Allistor retorted, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"_Someone _needs to make father proud." Arthur replied, picking up his work and placing it under his arm.

"There are other ways-" Allistor began but Arthur was already walking past him and heading for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To the park," Arthur replied. "Hopefully I'll get some peace and quiet."

"But I wanted to play~!" Peter whined again.

"Then play with Allistor," Arthur snapped. "He's your favorite."

Arthur slammed the door behind him and headed to Hyde Park, his brain burning with impatience and frustration. Hopefully the park would have a calming effect. God knew he needed it.


	2. Chapter 2

Ch. 2:

Alfred watched a group of kids flying kites, watched an elderly woman feed some pigeons, and watched a love struck looking couple ride bikes. Hyde Park was amazing, huge, beautiful, and full of all kinds of people.

"Can we go back to the hotel yet?" Matthew asked, sounding less than ecstatic.

Alfred turned to his brother with a pout, "Dude, what's with you? Can't you at least try to enjoy yourself?"

Matthew sighed from where he sat on a bench. He had been dragging his feet the entire time and not looking the least bit interested at all the things they've seen. Alfred knew he was kind of a homebody, but couldn't his brother at least _try_ to have some fun?

"I just want to go take a nap, Al." Matthew replied, standing up.

"Fine," Alfred sighed with disappointment, "I think I remember where the hotel is."

"There's no need for you to come," Matthew answered, "Hang out here a bit, I don't want to spoil your trip."

"You're spoiling your own though." Alfred pointed out, his brow furrowed.

Matthew simply shrugged like it was no big deal, "It's my trip to do with it as I see fit. I'll see you back at the hotel; try not to stay out too late."

Alfred waved goodbye to his brother, wondering if Matthew didn't know the way back to the hotel either. _Well, it's his problem now_. Alfred whirled around, his easy smile back in place as he started walking down the path, watching the people around him going about their ways, opening his ears when he heard conversation. The British accent was so cool.

He spent a few moments tossing bread crumbs to ducks, even getting into a game of catch with some locals, until he decided he wanted to go deeper into the park, maybe even get lost for a bit.

Alfred headed into the trees, feeling a small burst of excitement at the thought of an adventure, and suddenly remembered he hadn't taken any pictures since he got there. Feeling stupid, he pulled out his camera and pressed it to his eye, doing a 360 as he looked for some memories to catch…

Suddenly catching sight of a bird flying through the trees, Alfred gave chase, wanting to get a picture of a foreign bird. But suddenly he slammed into something solid and soft. Hearing two yelps (one his own), he tumbled to the ground with whatever he hit.

"What the bloody-" an angry British accent rang in his ears and he was roughly pushed away. "What's the matter with you?!"

"Sorry, I-" Alfred looked up at his unintended victim and stopped. The young man looked to be around Alfred's age, with messy blond hair and oddly bushy eyebrows. His emerald green eyes glaring angrily down at Alfred. He looked the local up and down, taking in his rather slender body. "Sorry."

The man scoffed with disgust, "Sorry, he says." He looked around and Alfred then noticed all the papers scattered around, some had fallen in puddles and mud.

"Look what you did!" the man cried in panic, lunging to the damp papers to seize them.

Alfred sat up and reached for the nearest paper.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, "Here, I'll help."

But before he could so much as touch the paper, it was snatched from him. "I don't want your help." the man snapped.

Alfred blinked, thrown by the stranger's hostility. Yeah, Alfred knocked into him but it was an accident! "Don't get mad, I already said I was sorry like a hundred times!"

"Three," the man corrected, picking up the rest of the papers, "And you wouldn't have had to say sorry if you had just watched where you were going."

He finally turned to Alfred, looking him up and down with an unimpressed expression. Alfred suddenly felt naked.

"You're American, aren't you?" the man asked in a haughty tone.

Alfred only beamed. "Yep, the good ol' U.S.A. ! How'd you guess?"

The man curled his lip in a sardonic smirk/grimace, "You're uncivilized vocabulary was one thing. Your inability to pay attention to your surroundings was another."

The Englishman stood up and looked down at Alfred, "Then there was your rather large weight, I can imagine it came from inhaling hamburgers and soda all day."

Alfred glared up at him,

"First off, my vocabulary is just great. Second, since you didn't move out of the way either you can hardly talk about paying attention. And third"- Alfred stood up so fast the man flinched, and Alfred took satisfaction at the fact the local was shorter, "I may eat burgers but I am _not _fat. Not like I was on top of you long enough for you to find out, anyways."

The man cocked a thick eyebrow, "One does not need to be sat on for a long period of time to tell when someone is heavy or not."

Alfred looked away and muttered stubbornly, "I'm not fat."

"Right, of course you're not," the man replied with disinterest. "Is this yours?"

Alfred turned to see the rude stranger was holding his camera. His smile was instantly back in place (which seemed to surprise the man)

"Thanks. I totally forgot about it."

Taking it from the Brit, he brought his eye to the camera and looked up, surveying the sky.

"What on earth are you doing _now_?" The stranger asked in exasperation.

Alfred looked down at the man through his camera lens, "I was trying to take a picture of a bird."

"What kind of bird?"

Alfred shrugged, "I don't know, all I know is it lives here, so it's basically an exotic breed."

The man scoffed again, "So this is the legendary American logic?"

Alfred smiled, "I wouldn't make fun of it if I were you; we did beat you in the revolutionary war."

The camera flashed as Alfred took a picture, capturing the Brit's angry expression which immediately turned indignant.

"Did you just take a picture of me without asking?"

Alfred lowered the camera, his smile cheeky, "Well, I did make a vow to take a picture of anything weird and you're by far the weirdest thing I've found today."

He lifted the camera up to take another picture but the Brit quickly blocked the lens with his palm, "Don't."

Alfred chuckled at the man's menacing tone, but did as he said, placing the camera back in his bag. He then extended his hand to the stranger who took a step back as if it would bite.

"My name's Alfred, by the way. Alfred F. Jones."

The man slowly and with obvious reluctance took Alfred's hand and gave it a slight shake, "…Arthur."

"Arthur what?" Alfred tilted his head slightly to the side.

Arthur narrowed his eyes, "I'm not telling you."

Alfred frowned, "But I told my last name and the first initial to my middle name!"

"I didn't ask you to," Arthur huffed. "Not my fault you're more willing to talk to strangers than me."

"Wow," Alfred laughed, "You have to be the most anti-social guy I've ever met. How do you have any friends?"

Arthur glared at him and Alfred lifted his hands in surrender. "I know, I know, none of my business."

He buried his hands in his pockets and rocked back on the balls of his feet, watching Arthur as the Brit looked through his papers, checking for what was damaged.

"So, like the king?" Alfred spoke up after a moment of silence.

Arthur looked up at him like he had lost his mind, "I beg your pardon?"

"Your name," Alfred clarified, "Are you named after _the_ King Arthur, the man who led the Knights of the Round Table?"

Arthur smirked mockingly, "Oh yes, in fact he's an ancestor of mine."

Alfred's eyes brightened and he broke into a huge grin, "Really?"

Now Arthur looked both disgusted and sympathetic at the same time, "No, not really."

"Oh," Alfred pouted for a moment, then shrugged, "Oh well, can't have everything. Am I right?"

"Can't have peace and quiet, that's for sure," Arthur replied.

But Alfred didn't catch the hint, "Yeah, I guess. You know, I always loved all the stories about King Arthur and his Knights. They were real heroes, you know?"

"Yes," Arthur replied, "I've read the books."

"Do you know Batman?" Alfred asked randomly.

Arthur looked at him, "Who the bloody hell is that?"

Alfred's eyes widened and his jaw dropped, he was instantly horrified. "You don't know Batman? _The Batman_?"

"If I did I wouldn't ask who he was," Arthur replied, his cheeks slight red with embarrassment.

"He's one of the coolest heroes EVER! When he was just a kid his parents were killed so he became this knight of darkness! Fighting evil villains like the Joker and Two-Face!"

Alfred continued explaining the epic-ness of the dark hero but Arthur just stared at him, the words flying over his head.

When Alfred stopped to take a breath, Arthur butted in, "I didn't need the lesson. If you love this man so much go back to America and talk to him."

"_I can't_," Alfred looked incredibly upset by the fact and Arthur almost thought he was going to cry, "Gotham City is a _fictional_ city! Believe me, I've looked."

Alfred suddenly took a breath as if to calm himself, "Anyway, I can't go back home yet. I'm spending all summer here in London."

"Oh, goody," Arthur replied with dripping sarcasm, "You have fun with that."

He started to slowly back away, wondering if the American's heavy weight made him slower than Arthur.

"I will," Alfred decided with enthusiasm, "But I pretty much have seen most of Hyde Park, I need to go take pictures of other places. Will you take me?"

Arthur stopped dead, "What?"

"Will you take me?" Alfred repeated, "You know, show me the sights. You live here you must know some awesome places."

"Bloody hell-WHY?!" Arthur demanded with sheer frustration and confusion.

Seriously though, why? When in their entire conversation did Arthur sound like a friendly social person who would love nothing better than to take a loud, annoying American around town? For pity's sake, Alfred had even said Arthur was antisocial! Yet the thick-headed American seemed surprised by the words.

"Well…why not?"

"Because I might just be busy," Arthur offered.

"Okay," Alfred replied, "What are you so busy with?"

Arthur opened his mouth but no words came out, the truth was he had finished his work a few minutes ago and was headed home to do…nothing.

Arthur Too slow to think up a lie, Alfred smiled knowingly; "Come on, just one place."

Looking at the tall boy, Arthur knew he wouldn't give up; he'd cling to Arthur until he had his way. The image of a leech flashed through Arthur's mind and he shuddered.

"Will you leave me alone if I do this for you?"

Alfred's grin turned annoyingly goofy before giving Arthur a salute, "Scout's honor!"

He then pulled out his camera and took another unexpected picture of Arthur.

"STOP DOING THAT!"


	3. Chapter 3

Ch. 3:

"That is Big Ben. It's-"

Arthur was cut off by Alfred's whoop as the American started taking what appeared to be a hundred pictures per second. "Look at the size of that thing! It's so freaking cool! Hey, hey, can we go up there?"

"No," Arthur hissed, mortified at the passerby's stares cast them. How did he end up babysitting this overgrown infant?

Alfred shrugged, "Oh well, this is still pretty cool." He sounded so enthralled that Arthur furrowed his brows in confusion.

"Don't you have anything impressive in America?"

Alfred looked at him with an indignant expression that was oddly funny on his face, "Of _course _we do! It's America!"

He said that like it solved all questions of the universe and started to count off on his fingers,

"We have Lady Liberty, the Grand Canyon, Mount Rushmore, really awesome fast food restaurants."

"Fast food restaurants don't count," Arthur spoke up.

Alfred glared at him, "Who said? I was looking through London tourist pamphlets on the way here and you guys mention _your _restaurants. I bet they don't even have hamburgers."

Arthur rolled his eyes, "The point I was trying to make is: Why are you so enchanted by our famous sights? As you said, you have your own back home."

Alfred looked at him, and then smiled, but it wasn't a silly or mocking smile, it was just a simple smile. "Because what's the point of going on an adventure if you don't get enchanted?"

Arthur blinked. Out of all the things he imagined this crazy American saying that had not been one of them. And had the boy's eyes always been that blue? Had they always sparkled like that?

Arthur jumped, stopping his thoughts. Why would he think things like that? Who cared what color this git's eyes were?

"So," Alfred spoke up, putting his camera up, "What else have you got for me?"

Arthur groaned. He did not want to go anywhere else, it was late and he was tired -a raindrop hit his nose- and it was beginning to rain.

He pointed up at the gray sky, "Can't go anywhere now but home."

Alfred looked up at the sky, but instead of looking put out or resigned instead he looked happy, "What? It's just a little rain? Are you scared of melting?"

Arthur stared at him, "You don't-" But then the rain really started to pour and Arthur was glad his papers were safe in his briefcase.

Alfred threw his arms out and laughed, running circles around Arthur who watched him with a confused/shocked expression.

"Come on," Alfred cheered, sticking his tongue out to the sky, "Rain can be pretty fun too!"

"Yes, I hear pneumonia is a delight," Arthur replied flatly, holding the briefcase over his head as he watched Alfred dance around. His smile white and bright, his blue eyes glittering like jewels….Arthur quickly shook his head, he was doing it again!

Alfred suddenly grabbed Arthur's wrist and started to spin the surprised Brit around with him, rain dancing around them. Arthur opened his mouth to tell Alfred to stop but the words evaporated on his tongue, the strange American just looked so thrilled, like rain was the most amazing thing he had ever seen. Droplets decorated his hair and glasses, his mouth open to catch the falling water, his eyes practically glowing, and his palm warm and soft against Arthur's flesh. For a moment, Arthur suddenly didn't see this entire situation as a nuisance. He started to enjoy the feel of the water against his skin, the crispness of the air. For a moment it was….fun.

But then Alfred tripped and they both tumbled to the ground, the front of Arthur's shirt getting splattered with muddy water. He hissed, his temper returning, and he glared over at Alfred who was sitting there, laughing.

"How is it that when I'm with you my face keeps saying 'good day' to the ground?"

Alfred grinned, "I don't know, it's weird huh?" He jumped to his feet and offered Arthur his hand, "But it looked like you were having fun for a moment there."

Arthur swatted the boy's hand away and stood up, "Well then you need to get your glasses checked, because I was not having any fun at all."

The rain had become an absolute downpour by now; Arthur shivered and surveyed his surroundings, spotting an old ice cream shop.

"Perfect," he breathed before turning to Alfred. "If we can get out of this weather I'll buy you a cone."

Just as expected, Alfred's eyes lit up with excitement. He really was an overgrown toddler.

"You got yourself a deal! Let's go!" He grabbed Arthur's hand before the Brit could react and dragged him to the shop.

Being an ice cream shop it wasn't much warmer inside the small building, but at least it was dry, and not that many people were there, thankfully. Ignoring the stares Arthur ordered two cones and made his way back over to Alfred who sat at a small round table near the window, watching the rain pour outside.

"Thanks," Alfred smiled, taking the ice cream and starting to devour the chocolate cone.

Arthur watched with distaste, only taking tiny licks of his own vanilla.

"This has been fun," Alfred looked up at Arthur, ice cream speckled his lips, "Thanks for hanging out with me."

"I hardly had any choice," Arthur grumbled. "You wouldn't leave me alone." He scooted the ice cream cone away, suddenly losing his appetite.

Alfred looked down at it, "Aren't you hungry?"

"Not for ice cream," Arthur replied, wrapping his arms around himself and shivering, "I'm freezing." What he'd give for a nice cup of steaming tea right now.

"Oh, okay," Alfred suddenly shrugged off his jacket.

"No point in you being cold too-" Arthur began but stopped short when Alfred stood up and, walking over to Arthur, threw his thick jacket over the chilly Brit.

Arthur tensed up as the warmth enveloped him. He wasn't entirely sure what to do, he couldn't remember the last time someone had shown him such a kind gesture.

"It stinks," he finally decided, "It smells like greasy fast food."

Alfred laughed as he returned to his seat, "You know, most people would say thank you, or how nice of you."

Arthur looked away with a huff, feeling slightly guilty for his rudeness, "I'm not most people."

"Nope," Alfred agreed, "You're not like anyone I've ever met before."

The words almost sounded like a compliment and Arthur risked a glance at Alfred, he had that smile on his face again, that simple smile that might've been charming if it wasn't still covered with ice cream.

Arthur sighed and grabbed a napkin, leaning over to Alfred who nearly jumped with surprise, "What are you doing?"

"You have ice cream on your face, you git," Arthur snapped, before pressing the napkin to Alfred's lips.

The American didn't seem to be breathing and his eyes were squeezed shut, as if he couldn't bear to look at Arthur. Arthur smirked, he should be embarrassed, eating like a child, but then he realized that a very thin cloth was keeping his fingers from touching Alfred's lips…

Arthur pulled back quickly, nearly falling back out of his chair.

Alfred blinked his eyes open, looking at Arthur with confusion, "You okay?"

"F-Fine," he stammered, "I got it all." He suddenly felt uncomfortably warm in Alfred's jacket.

"Thanks," Alfred smiled again and seemed to forget anything had happened, "So, tell me about yourself, Arthur. At least a few things."

Arthur glared at him, "I already said it isn't your concern."

"Come on," Alfred begged, his eyes puppy-dog like, "Please."

Arthur sighed, "Bloody hell, if you _must _know, my last name is Kirkland."

"Kirkland," Alfred repeated, almost seeming to taste the word, "That's cool. Arthur Kirkland. It sounds so dignified~"

A small bud of pride warmed Arthur's chest, "Well if a gentleman's name should be anything it should be dignified."

Alfred rolled his eyes, "Oh yes, you are a very impressive gentleman the way you've been acting today."

Arthur winced. Okay, so maybe he had been a little rude but it hadn't exactly been his day.

"What else?" Alfred changed the topic, "How old are you?"

Arthur huffed, "You don't go around asking people you just met how old they are."

"You sound like a chick." Alfred laughed, then scrutinized Arthur with interest, "What? Are you a dinosaur? Are you so old that hanging out with me would make you a cradle robber?"

Arthur felt his cheeks burned with embarrassment. "Don't be absurd, you git! I'm only twenty-five."

Alfred gave a low-whistle, "WOW! You _are_ ancient," he laughed, "Just kidding, just kidding! For what it's worth, I think you look younger."

"Humph," Arthur scoffed, "How old are you? Sixteen?"

Alfred puffed up his chest, "Nineteen, actually."

"Hmm," Arthur replied, "I wouldn't be too proud. You can't even drink yet."

Alfred deflated, "True, and I would like to drink in a foreign country…I got it! I'll just stay here until I'm old enough!"

Arthur's eyes bulged in terror and Alfred burst out laughing at his expression, falling out of his chair and getting disapproving looks from the other customers.

"YOUR-FACE-I-CAN'T-EVEN-"

Arthur was about to say what Alfred could do with his "can't even" when the rude boy stopped laughing to speak, "By the way what's with that brief case full of super special papers you wouldn't let me touch?"

Arthur looked down at said brief case, "That super special paper is my school work. And of course I wouldn't let you touch it after you nearly ruined all my hard work."

Alfred sat back in his seat and looked Arthur over, "School work? I thought you were twenty five."

"By school work I mean college work, you wanker," Arthur explained with impatience, and then straightened his collar, "I'm going to be a politician."

"But politicians are so _boring_," Alfred groaned.

Arthur snorted, this foreigner was just like his brothers, "Boring or not it's my responsibility."

Alfred cocked an eyebrow, "Responsibility?"

"I'm the only decent son that has come from my father and therefore it falls to me to follow his footsteps."

"But is that really what you want to do?" Alfred asked.

Arthur glared at him, his annoyance increased, "Frankly it's none of your business what I do with my life."

Alfred held his hands up in surrender, "Sorry, sorry, I obviously hit a pressure point there."

"You've been hitting pressure points all day," Arthur informed him.

Before Alfred could respond, a phone suddenly rang. The ringtone sounding like a corny theme song for a TV show. Alfred checked the screen and mouthed "my brother" before answering it.

"Hello? Oh hey, Mattie. You sound oddly cheerful. Okay, okay, don't get all defensive forget I said anything. Why'd you call…? Yeah, I know it's raining…But I was having fun!" Alfred heaved a heavy sigh, "Fine, I'll be there in a few minutes, bye."

Alfred put his phone away and smiled ruefully at Arthur, "Parting is such sweet sorrow."

"You're leaving?" Arthur tried not to smile.

Alfred stood up, "Yeah, but maybe I'll see you later. You can show me the rest of the sights."

Arthur swallowed, "Oh…"

"Anyway, it's been fun hanging out. Catch ya later, Arty!" Alfred turned and raced back outside, despite the pouring rain.

"Its Arthur," Arthur mumbled but was too relieved that Alfred hadn't asked for his number. He no doubt would've made a scene if Arthur had rejected him. Which he would have, of course. The last thing he needed was the crazy American knowing more about him than he already did.

Arthur rubbed his arms to ward off the last of the chills when he realized with a start that he was still wearing Alfred's jacket.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4:

"What's that," Alfred asked.

"What's what," Matthew didn't meet his eye.

"That rose," Alfred replied, "In the vase…on the table."

"Oh, I guess the hotel put it in here to add some charm."

"Okay, dude, I know I don't always pay attention but I definitely don't remember that rose being there."

Matthew just shrugged and Alfred huffed. Upon returning home, sopping wet, he had dried himself up and the two brothers had ordered room service. None of the food they offered was as good as burgers, but it was alright. After they had finished Alfred noticed the single red rose on the coffee table. He had an odd feeling that that rose was part of the reason his brother had been softly smiling since Alfred had returned, but hey, as long as Matthew wasn't moping around Alfred was happy.

"Speaking of things not being there," Matthew said as he cleaned up their meal, "Where's your jacket?"

"Oh," Alfred looked away, "I'm sure it's around here somewhere."

Matthew gave Alfred a disbelieving look but Alfred stayed quiet, if Matthew wouldn't tell him the story behind the rose, Alfred wouldn't tell him the story behind his jacket. But when the two finally bid each other good night and Alfred lay in his ridiculously comfy bed, he found he couldn't sleep. Instead his mind wandered to his jacket, and whether that incredibly grumpy and yet incredibly…_enchanting_ Brit was still wearing it.

"Where'd that come from," Dylan asked from where he sat in the living room.

Arthur stopped, clutching the freshly cleaned jacket to his chest, so much for sneaking upstairs before his brothers saw him.

"It's nothing," he said all too quickly. Dylan, his second oldest brother, smirked, his eyes alit with interest; "It certainly _looks_ like something."

Arthur scowled before showing his brother the jacket, "Here, it's a jacket. Are you satisfied now?"

Dylan wrinkled his nose at it, "Where the hell did _that_ come from? It's the corniest thing I've ever seen."

"No, it isn't," Arthur snapped then blushed, "I mean…I've seen tackier things."

Dylan smiled and leaned forward, "Who gave that to you?"

"It wasn't given to me," Arthur corrected, "The idiot forgot to take it back."

Dylan's eyes narrowed knowingly, "I see…"

"No, you don't," Arthur growled, "I know what you're thinking and it's not true so forget about it."

As he headed back upstairs, hating himself for not only cleaning Alfred's disgusting jacket but then defending it, he heard Dylan's voice call to him: "I _would've_ forgotten about it if you weren't blushing like a junior high virgin!"

The next day Alfred and Matthew decided to go see the London Tooth.

"Eye," Matthew corrected for the hundredth time, "It's the London _Eye_."

"Tooth, eye, what's the difference," Alfred asked airily.

There were huge differences but Matthew didn't say what, over the years he had gotten used to Alfred's thick head.

When they caught sight of the famous Ferris wheel they both gasped in awe at its amazing size. Instantly Alfred took out his camera and started snapping pictures, "That mofo is HUGE!"

"Agreed," Matthew said quietly as they headed toward it. A crowd surrounded them as they got closer and closer. Alfred lowered the camera, wanting to save space to take pictures when he was on that thing!

But then with a start he realized Matthew wasn't following, he turned around to see his brother was trying to look over the crowd, Alfred didn't know what he had spotted but it had made his face curl into a huge smile and it made his eyes glint delightfully.

Alfred narrowed his eyes, wondering if it had anything to do with maple syrup.

"Hey, Mattie," Alfred called and his brother's attention snapped back to him, "Aren't you coming?"

"Oh, um," Matthew looked at Alfred then looked back to where he had been staring, "I-I think I'll join you later."

"Huh," Alfred began but Matthew was already moving through the crowd, "Mattie! Wait!"

"I'll call you later!" and just like that his brother was gone.

"What the hell," Alfred mumbled, feeling confused and a little disappointed. He hadn't wanted to ride the London Tooth by himself. He shrugged, guess it couldn't be helped, and it's not like he'd be the only one riding it. He quickly headed toward the Ferris wheel and before he even realized it he was in a pod.

Alfred pressed his face up against the glass; he was going to explode with excitement if they didn't start this thing soon! Other people started to file into the pod but he didn't pay attention, his camera ready to take pictures of London from a bird's eye view.

Suddenly someone knocked into him, slamming Alfred into the glass. Then a voice spoke: Bloody hell! Peter, look what you made me do! I'm terribly sorry sir, he-"

The voice stopped mid-sentence and with a wide grin on his face Alfred turned around to see Arthur staring at him, his face contorted in open horror.

"Arthur Kirkland," he greeted happily.

"Alfred F. Jones," Arthur replied, sounding slightly out of breath, "Fancy seeing you here."

"I'd call it fate," Alfred winked.

"Who's this, jerk?"

Alfred looked down to see what looked to be the smaller version of Arthur, however this kid's blond hair wasn't as messy as Arthur's and his eyes were blue instead of green, but they did share the same uncanny eyebrows.

"Peter," Arthur sighed, "This is Alfred. Alfred, this is my younger brother Peter."

"I may be small but I'm tough," Peter said with pride. Alfred wasn't sure what caused him to declare that, but still, he was a cute kid; Alfred smiled at him,

"Nice to meet you Peter."

The pod suddenly started to move and with an excited cry Alfred whirled around and started taking pictures. Peter walked over to stand by Alfred,

"You've never been on the London Eye, before? Arthur takes me all the time," he said in a pompous voice.

"Though I have no idea why I take you," Arthur grumbled, "You get scared and start crying every time we reach the very top."

Peter scowled at his brother, "I do not you jerk!" He turned to Alfred for some sympathy, "He always acts like this when we go out!"

"Oh, so he's crabby all the time, I was afraid it was me," he ruffled Peter's hair before smiling slyly at Arthur who rolled his eyes.

"I wouldn't be in such a bad mood if I could have some mature company," Arthur murmured.

"I'm only nine," Peter whined.

"I'm only nineteen," Alfred whined too, but his eyes glittered with amusement.

Alfred turned back to the scenery, this time just looking at it, "This is incredible," he breathed. "I wish Matthew could see this."

"Who's Matthew," Peter asked while Arthur took a step closer to listen.

"He's my twin brother," Alfred answered. "We were both going to ride this but at the last minute he ran off to go see something. I wonder what it was."

"Maybe a treasure," Peter offered excitedly.

Alfred shrugged, "Maybe."

"By the way, Arty," Alfred turned to him, "Where's my jacket?"

Arthur blinked, his face going red, before replying brusquely, "Its back at my house. I didn't know I'd run into you, besides it's your own fault for leaving it behind."

"Is that the one you were washing last-"

"Quiet, Peter," Arthur snapped, "We're almost to the top."

Alfred and Peter turned around and sure enough they towered over the city, Peter let out a yelp and ran over to cling to Arthur's leg. Alfred however let out a gasp and took a few more pictures. Finally he put the camera away and got down on his hands and knees, looking down with an enraptured expression,

"It…it kind of reminds me of the view at the Empire State Building," he breathed.

Arthur placed Peter on the bench before walking over to kneel by Alfred, watching the American's expression and remembering his words yesterday about being enchanted. Alfred glanced over at him, his smile didn't waver but his brow scrunched up in confusion, "Something up?"

Arthur blinked, "Hmm?"

"Well, you kinda just came over and invaded my personal space."

"Oh," Arthur quickly stood up, "Well, it's just…I find your facial expressions amusing." He smirked down at him, "You really are a little kid, what with those dopey expressions you get."

Alfred just grinned wider, "I'd say it takes one to know one but then I remembered that you're an old man."

Arthur lightly tapped Alfred's side with his toe but it just made the American laugh.

"Why don't you two just kiss already," the words came from an albino who was on the other side of the pod, his friend (who looked Spanish from where Arthur stood) laughed alongside Alfred but Arthur just glared.

After the ride Alfred stuck around with Arthur and Peter, playing around with the lad, tossing him in the air before catching him and letting him ride on his shoulders.

"I wish _you_ were my brother, Al," Peter complained, "My brothers claim I'm too big to be carried but they're just not as strong as you!"

"You have other brothers," Alfred asked.

"Two more," Arthur replied from where he walked beside him, "Allistor and Dylan."

"You'd like them," Peter assured Alfred, "They're so much cooler than this jerk."

"Oh, I don't know," Alfred looked over at Arthur, "I think Arty's pretty cool."

Arthur quickly looked away, feeling his cheeks burn, "Its _Arthur._"

Alfred just snickered and Arthur once again felt confused by this strange American, how could he be so annoying and loud one second and in the next…incredibly charming and even nice.

"Arthur, I'm hungry," Peter whined, "I want something sweet."

"I like the way you think, Peter," Alfred replied, "Let's go have some lunch, my treat."

"That's quite alright," Arthur interrupted, "I can pay."

Alfred pouted, "Then that would be the second time you paid for me. Let's at least split the bill."

"Well…I suppose, that'll work."

They ended up stopping at a place that also had an arcade. So while Peter went to play every game the store owned Alfred and Arthur were left to sit in awkward silence. Alfred passed the time by texting his brother to figure out where he was. Arthur took the time to study Alfred. He had realized on that rainy day that Alfred was attractive but it wasn't like Arthur hadn't run into other attractive men before…yet, this American was different. When he smiled, which was all the time, he stirred something in Arthur, something he thought he had buried years ago after that dreadful mistake.

"You should come over to my house," he breathed.

Alfred looked over at him and blinked, his face confused, "Huh?"

Instantly Arthur blushed and started to stutter, "I-I mean, to get your jacket. You can come over and get your jacket."

Alfred cocked his head, "Are you inviting me over to hang out at your place?"

"No," Arthur snapped, "I just want to be rid of that stupid jacket."

"Uh-huh…" Alfred trailed off, studying Arthur.

Feeling insecure Arthur changed the topic,

"Have you figured out where your brother is?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, apparently he made a friend the same day I did. He's hanging out with him right now." Alfred smirked at him, "I bet his friend is much more pleasant than mine."

Arthur furrowed his brow, "When was it ever said we were friends? We met yesterday, barely eight hours ago."

"Hey," Alfred spread his hands out and shrugged, "Romeo and Juliet fell madly in love in just one second."

Arthur snorted at that, "Yes, and they both died at the end."

"True, so please Arthur; don't fall madly in love with me."

Arthur glared at Alfred, yet felt his traitorous lips start to turn up into a smile, "Oh, don't worry. That'll be the easiest thing I've ever done."

Alfred playfully pouted, "Hey that was cold. I'd be the best thing that ever happened to you."

"You'd be lucky to date me," Arthur replied, feeling his lips turn up even more, "But it doesn't matter, we're so different it would be impossible."

"I think that albino on the London Tooth would disagree," Alfred shot back, "Apparently we give off a good chemistry."

Arthur laughed, "_That_ bloody bastard?! I was ready to throttle him!"

Alfred had jumped at Arthur's laugh and now he was staring at the Brit with sparkling eyes, "Whoa."

Arthur went silent at Alfred's expression and scooted away, "Whoa, what?"

"I never saw you smile, let alone laugh. It's like I'm in the Twilight Zone."

Arthur was about to give a scathing report when Alfred smiled warmly at him, "It's a nice touch."

"Peter, time to go," Arthur stood up abruptly, feeling hot all over.

"Aw! But I'm beating the high score," Peter moaned from across the room.

"I'll bring you back some other time and you can beat it then," Arthur told him, walking over and dragging his younger brother away from the game.

"But someone may beat it before me!"

"It's time to go," Arthur repeated in a no nonsense tone.

Alfred quickly followed them out and Arthur couldn't manage to look at him, his skin felt like it was on fire. What, did the idiot give him some incurable American disease?

"Hey, Arty," Alfred walked forward until he was in front of Arthur, walking backwards to look at him, "About my jacket…"

"Oh, right," Arthur had totally forgotten about it. "Just follow us; I'll give it to you when we reach my house."

"Cool, I'll get to see it," Alfred looked delighted at the thought and Arthur squirmed under his blue gaze. Why did he have to look so happy to see Arthur's home?

"Wait until you see it," Peter spoke up, trying to pull away from Arthur's grip, "It's HUGE!"

"You should see my place," Alfred replied, still walking backwards, "It's pretty big too, and we live right next to a lake."

"Neat," Peter said.

"Watch out," Arthur suddenly said, grabbing Alfred's wrist to stop him from walking into an elderly lady.

After apologizing profusely to the woman who glared at them as she walked away, Arthur turned on Alfred, "Watch where you're going; idiot."

Alfred shrugged apologetically, "Sorry."

Arthur rolled his eyes before noticing he still held Alfred's wrist, he dropped it immediately, getting an odd look from the American before Arthur pressed on.

"Okay, so this is _way _bigger than my place," Alfred whistled appreciatively as he stared up at the Kirkland Mansion.

Arthur shrugged modestly, "I suppose it's alright."

"Alright," Alfred laughed, "Are you kidding? This place is awesome! Why didn't you tell me you were rich?"

"I'm not rich, my parents are," Arthur replied as they passed through the gate.

"That's what rich people always say," Alfred scoffed.

Peter, over not beating the high score, raced inside. Arthur turned to Alfred, "Wait here, I'll get your jacket."

Alfred furrowed his brow, "I can't come in?"

"It's better if you don't," Arthur said, slightly apologetic, "My other brothers are not that pleasant. Now that I think about it, Peter isn't such a treat either."

Alfred laughed and nodded as Arthur went inside. He quickly raced up to his room and retrieved the jacket before heading back downstairs, glad to see Peter had vanished to his room and Allistor and Dylan were nowhere to be found.

Back outside, Alfred smiled when he saw Arthur and the Brit's stomach did a summersault for some odd reason.

"I think Peter is actually pretty cute," Alfred said out of the blue but then winked, "But don't worry."

"Worry about what," Arthur asked as he walked over and extended the jacket to Alfred.

"You're still my favorite Kirkland." Alfred grinned as he took the jacket, "Hey! You washed it."

"Huh? Oh-yes, yes I did," Arthur tried to regain his composure after being told he was Alfred's favorite. It didn't count when he hadn't even met Allistor and Dylan.

"Thanks," Alfred grinned before sliding it back on and releasing a peaceful sigh, "I feel whole again."

"If it was so important to you then why didn't you take it back before you left that ice cream shop yesterday?"

"I couldn't let you walk home in the rain without a jacket."

"I see," Arthur looked up to the sky, "Anyway, its getting dark. You should probably head back to your hotel."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Alfred agreed, "Tell Peter I said goodbye."

"I will," Arthur replied, crossing his arms and waiting for the American to leave. But Alfred just stood there, smiling at Arthur like an idiot.

Arthur felt that warmness rise again and scowled at Alfred, "Did you forget where your hotel is?"

To his satisfaction Alfred blinked in surprise, then his cheeks turned red with embarrassment,

"Oh yeah-I mean, no. I know where it is. See ya."

He then turned and quickly walked past the gate and out onto the street. Arthur waited until he was completely out of sight before he turned and headed back into the house.


	5. Chapter 5

Ch. 5:

Alfred and Matthew sat together on the couch, watching an old British show and trying to make sense of it.

"And they say our entertainment is weird," Matthew laughed softly. But when Alfred didn't reply he turned to look at his brother. Alfred's eyes had a far away look to them and he looked to be thinking deeply about something.

Matthew tapped his arm and Alfred jumped, "What?"

"You've had that weird look in your eyes for a while now," Matthew said, "Is something wrong?"

"No," Alfred said quickly, but then stopped, "Well…Maybe there is, I don't know."

"Do you want to talk about it," Matthew asked and Alfred shook his head.

"No, but I think I do need some fresh air," he stood up and stretched.

Matthew watched his brother head to the door, "Do you want me to come with you?"  
"Nah, I might be awhile, don't wait up for me." Then he was gone.

Alfred felt so…weird. Ever since he had ran into Arthur he couldn't get the Brit out of his head. Every time he had looked at that grouchy man his heart beat faster and he couldn't help but smile, even if he was being insulted. Which he was, all the time, yet, everything in this town reminded him of Arthur. And Alfred was honest enough with himself to know he wanted to see the Brit again, he just wasn't going to focus on _why._

He walked down the street, noticing a few other people enjoying the night life. He then spotted a couple talking near a lamppost, he had noticed these lampposts since he had arrived, they were everywhere, and they had these weird symbols on them. Alfred watched the man whisper something into the girl's ear and she laughed and blushed and Alfred swallowed…suddenly he really, really wanted to know what those symbols on the lampposts meant.

A slow smile curved his lips, and he knew just who to ask.

"So, did you two enjoy the London Eye," Dylan asked, taking a sip of his tea.

While their parents had gone out to a fancy party the four brothers had decided to sit down and relax with a hot cup of tea. Of course, Allistor had spiked his with rum.

"It was fun," Peter said his cheeks covered in the crumbs of the sweets Dylan made to go along with the tea, "I didn't even get scared when we reached the very top!"

Arthur cocked an eyebrow at the boy but only said, "Next time one of you can take him. I have more important things to do then babysit."

"Damn, you're such a buzz kill," Allistor remarked, his words slightly slurred, "It doesn't hurt to have a little fun."

"Well I didn't have that much fun today," Arthur shot back.

"At least not until Alfred showed up," Peter said happily.

"Peter shut up," Arthur snapped but his older brothers' attention had been caught.

"Who's Alfred," Dylan asked.

"This American Arthur met, we found him at the London Eye and he hung out with us," Peter explained, ignoring Arthur's glare.

Dylan smirked at Arthur, "Is that the owner of that jacket you were holding onto to?"

"No," Arthur said at the exact time Peter said, "Yes." Dylan laughed.

"Just because I know him doesn't mean I enjoyed his company," Arthur said bitterly, "I've known you three for years and I think you you're all terrible company."

Ignoring him, Peter spoke up again, "He even made Arthur laugh!"

Dylan and Allistor stared at Arthur like he had grown a second head.

"You _laughed_," Dylan gasped.

"On _purpose_," Allistor asked with his jaw slack.

Arthur rolled his eyes with disgust, "Don't say it like I never do it."

"You don't do it," Allistor replied, "Ever. So of course we're surprised some random American got you to!"

Dylan smiled slyly and rested his chin in his hand, eyeing Arthur, "Or maybe, just maybe, this isn't some random American. Maybe, just maybe he's a bit more."

Arthur scowled at him, "No, he is not. He's just some loud foreigner, and meeting him today was a fluke. I'm sure I won't ever see that idiotic face again." Arthur started to sip his tea, completely sure of what he said, when a loud knocking startled them all.

"ARTHUR," an accented voice yelled, "ARTHUR!"

Arthur spit his drink out across the table, coughing; "BLOODY HELL!"  
But Peter's face brightened, "It's Alfred!"

Now Dylan and Allistor looked just as excited as their baby brother and Arthur felt dread rising, not liking the looks on their faces.

Allistor rushed to the door, "I'll go introduce myself."

Arthur stood up to escape but Dylan was faster, latching onto his brother's arm and dragging him after Allistor.

"No," Arthur begged, trying to break away, "Don't do this!"

"Doesn't feel so good to be dragged around, does it jerk," Peter asked with an imp-like smile as he followed.

They arrived in the hall just in time to see Allistor open the door and a familiar shape fall through it.

"Sorry," Alfred said as he quickly jumped back up, brushing away his embarrassment "Didn't mean to be so loud." He smiled and Arthur felt his breath hitch.

"You don't say," Allistor asked, looking Alfred up and down with intense interest. He must've been making Alfred uncomfortable because the American took a step back, "Are-are you one of Arthur's brothers?"

"The eldest of the Kirkland flock, Allistor Kirkland at your service," he nodded to him. "And who might you be?"

Alfred extended his hand, "I'm Alfred F. Jones. I was looking for your brother."

"I see," Allistor replied, taking Alfred's hand and giving it a firm shake.

"Here he is," Dylan spoke up and Arthur again tried to break away.

Alfred and Allistor turned to them and Alfred's face lit up. Feeling like a goner Arthur allowed Dylan to drag him over to the unwelcome visitor.

"I'm Dylan," Dylan introduced himself, "The second eldest. Now what can our brother do for you?"

"I need your help on a mission," Alfred turned to Arthur with excitement.

Arthur blinked, "What, right now?"

Alfred nodded excitedly, "I have a mystery to solve and I need my Watson."

Arthur ignored the greatly amused expressions of his brothers and scowled, "Alfred, do you have any idea what time it is? I'm tired and I was about to go to sleep so-"

Arthur was cut short when Alfred suddenly reached for his hand, "This won't take long, and I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important! So come on!"

Arthur was about to resist but then Allistor and Dylan both gave him a hefty push out the door, "Don't let him get hit by a car!"

Arthur shot a deadly look at his brothers as Alfred promised to watch out for him and dragged the unwillingly Brit out to the street.

However Arthur was grateful for his tired irritation, it kept him distracted from the warm pressure of Alfred's hand.

"So, where is this incredible mystery that couldn't wait until morning?"

Alfred didn't answer right away, just kept walking at a fast pace. Arthur started to wheeze, he wasn't in the greatest shape, and was about to tell Alfred to slow down when the American stopped abruptly.

Arthur didn't have time to stop and barreled into him but Alfred barely budged, instead turning around and spreading his arms out, "We're here!"

Arthur blinked and looked around, confused, they were in a regular street, a few yards away stood dimly lit houses; they stood near a bench and a lamppost in a small grassy area. There was nothing important or impressive here.

Arthur shrugged, his brow furrowed in a scowl, "I give up, what's the mystery?"

Alfred pointed to the lamppost, "This is."

Arthur turned to it and sighed, "Do you not know what a lamppost is, Alfred?"

"Of course I know what a lamppost is," Alfred snapped, looking put out that Arthur wasn't taking this seriously enough. "I meant this." He pointed to the symbols on the pole, "What do those stand for?"

Arthur looked at the symbols and recognized them as the Coco Chanel lampposts that decorated a good bit of town and any fondness he might have felt for Alfred melted. Lampposts, it was around midnight now and Alfred had dragged him out to the cold to look at _lampposts_!? He literally had to hold himself back from smacking the American and he opened his mouth to answer his question, then stopped…a smile formed on his mouth as he decided on how he'd burst this American's bubble.

"You mean you don't know," Arthur gave a mock gasp, "The story of Coco Chanel and the Duke of Westminster?"

Alfred blinked and he looked incredibly excited, "What story?"

"You may want to sit down for this one," Arthur suggested and as soon as Alfred had obeyed he began: "It's an incredibly romantic story. Coco Chanel was a famous French fashion designer. She had captured the heart of the British Duke of Westminster, Hugh Richard Arthur Grosvenor. He was so in love with her that he placed the logo of her brand and the crest of the Westminster home on all the lampposts to show his affection. Some would say it was even a marriage proposal."

Arthur let out a dramatic sigh, "But alas, it was never meant to be. She refused to be a Duchess, only wanting to be herself and broke off their affair." Arthur clutched his heart for effect, "Some say it had left the poor bloke heart broken."

"Wow," Alfred breathed, his eyes shining with a mixture of awe and sadness, "That's amazing. It really happened."

"Nope," Arthur stood up and straight and smiled nastily, "Actually, that c logo only stands for City Council. There was no marriage proposal."

Alfred blinked; he was silent for a moment and then burst out laughing, much to Arthur's surprise.

"Dude," he whined, "You're such a buzz kill!"

"Yeah," Arthur said with a spiteful smile, "Well, _you're_ a sleep-kill!" Arthur marched over and sat next to Alfred, tiredly placing his head in his hands.

"Sorry," Alfred smiled an apology, "I just couldn't wait."

Arthur chuckled, betraying his annoyed countenance, "You Americans can't wait for much of anything, can you?"

Alfred shrugged loosely, "Life's too short to wait."

Arthur shook his head, wishing his smile would leave, "But it has the chance to be too long to waste in rash actions."

"You and I really don't agree on anything, do we," Alfred pouted.

Arthur paused, then chortled dryly, "Well, our countries seem to agree on the colors red, white, and blue."

Alfred looked at him a moment, looking like he didn't know if Arthur was being serious or not. Then he chuckled too, "Yeah, there is that. But there has to be something else."

Arthur paused, looking at the unusually serious American. "…Well, we both speak English," he offered weakly.

Alfred shook his head severely, "No, I'm being serious… Well, I have a brother and you have three."

Arthur tsked, and looked down at his shoes, "I'd just as soon claim to have none…"

"Okay. Bad example…maybe we have the same opinions of something, say…movies. You look like you're one of those chick flick fanatics."

Arthur bit back another chuckle. Why was he getting all giggly like a high school girl all of a sudden? He must be getting sleep deprived. "I admit they're nice. But actually, I'm rather a nerd." Arthur then scratched his head and continued to stare at his shoes.

But Alfred fixed him with a scrutinizing stare, "Explain."

"Well, I-..No, no, never mind," Alfred chuckled again and stood up. He didn't want the cocky American to know his favorite movies; he'd make fun of him.

Alfred pouted, the boy seemed to always resort to that when he didn't get his way, "Calm on, Arty. This is a big step in our friendship."

Arthur squirmed under the boy's gaze, no wonder he pouted like that. It really worked on Arthur. Shaking his head and blushing profoundly he spoke in one big rush: "Ilikeharrypotterandlordoftheringsandthehobbit….there I said it."

There was a moment of almost intense silence until Alfred broke into raucous laughter, making Arthur jump and blush even more.

"Why would you be embarrassed about that," he demanded his smile big, "Those movies are _epic_!

Arthur looked over at him, momentarily surprised, but then he smiled, "Really?" He couldn't help a breezy laugh, "I was sure you were going to make fun of me or something."

Alfred didn't stop smiling; he never seemed to, "Hey, even if I did that's what friends do. Kinda like when you destroyed the lamppost story for me."

"Oh, that sounds familiar, you mean like how you destroyed my beauty sleep," Arthur laughed to show he was joking. His chest feeling oddly light he ran a hand, model-like, through his hair, "You don't get _this_ good looking on good fortune alone."

Alfred looked away with a smirk, "Lucky me, I was simply BORN sexy."

Arthur laughed again, his cheeks warm, but he didn't mind. Suddenly his annoyance had just…vanished, almost like magic. This boy was like a magician.

Arthur smiled down at Alfred for a few minutes, not noticing the awkward silence. But apparently Alfred did as he suddenly cleared his throat, "…Soooo, what else do you think we have in common besides movies and good looks?"

"Well…" Alfred chuckled dryly, "Unless you've got yourself a girl, we're both loners."

Alfred looked away at those words, slightly red. "Nope," he muttered before casting a glance at Arthur, "But I'm young, why would a dinosaur like you be a loner?"

Arthur felt both indignant and shocked, "Well, I-" he paused, "I guess you'd say most people aren't...really my type." A bitterness rose in his throat as unwanted memories came rushing back.

Alfred merely blinked. "What is your type?'

How simple he asked it. Arthur looked at him again, his mouth felt like cotton and he looked away again, "Just hard to find, okay? And even harder to find are the ones worth finding…"

"I see," Alfred sound uncharacteristically serious, "Kinda sounds like you looked."

"For a while, but hey," Arthur tried to pull off an indignant shrug and chuckled dryly, "Being alone leaves one time to think I suppose."

Alfred stood up, "Well, you can think with someone else you know. They can…make you happy and stuff."

Arthur glanced at the boy to see that he looked all unsure and fidgety, the sight made Arthur laugh, "Happy…You know, I believe I've been the happiest these last two days, than in a long time." He felt silly admitting this, ridiculous, kind of pathetic, but he knew it was the honest truth. "Thank you."

Now the fidgety Alfred blushed and looked away, uncannily nervous, "Oh well…no big. You're loads of fun and…stuff."

Still feeling warm all over he chuckled, almost sourly, "You wouldn't think so if you really knew me. Apparently, I'm very…boring…" Arthur swallowed, those awful memories hammering themselves into the front of his mind, refusing to go away.

Alfred shook his head sadly and clicked his tongue, "Arty, Arty, Arty, I wouldn't have dragged you around like I did if you were boring."

"Mmph, I figured you were dragging me around trying to make me less boring…"

Alfred frowned, "What makes you so sure you ARE boring?"

"Well, no one seemed to ever want to stick around…" He stopped, realizing that he was getting into a rather deep conversation, and with someone he had only known for forty eight hours, "…I-I mean… You know, what with the whole following my father's footsteps thing. It's actually quite a boring life."

"You know…my dad can be strict too but in the end he just wants me and Mattie to be happy…what makes you happy Arthur?"

Arthur, stopped, as nothing immediately came to mind he started to think. Going back through his child hood memories where his brothers always picked on him. Going back to when he put it on himself to becoming the next politician of the family. Going back to his past lovers, especially the one that hurt the most…Then he thought about the past few days, he hadn't been in a good mood, he had been bored and miserable and just down right unhappy…but then he had been tackled by a crazy foreigner. And then, quite suddenly like switching on a light, he had been…

"You," he mumbled quietly before realizing he had said it out loud.

Alfred leaned in dangerously close; Arthur could smell chocolate on his breath, "Huh? I didn't hear you."

Arthur swallowed, his throat dry and his face was no doubt completely red, "I…uh…I didn't say anything…"

"Liar," Alfred accused, narrowing his eyes.

"I…uh…"

"Arthur…"

He said it so softly, seriously, encouragingly, and Arthur found it impossible not to answer.

He looked down, a wave of fear suddenly burning his chest, "…I said…_you_."

After a amount of agonizing silence he risked a quick glance at Alfred, the boy's eyes were wide with shock, his face blushed crimson as he stayed perfectly still, staring at Arthur.

Feeling sick Arthur closed his eyes, he was such an idiot! Why did he do that? Why did he say that? Why why why-

"Arty…look at me…"

Arthur felt warm fingers softly caress his jaw line before grasping his chin; Arthur suddenly couldn't breathe as he slowly opened his eyes to see the most beautiful, most magnificent blue in the whole bloody world. Then, quite suddenly, Alfred wrapped an arm around Arthur's waist and smashed their lips together.

Arthur felt his heart stop, his whole body going rigid as Alfred slipped his tongue between Arthur's teeth and started to taste him. Arthur brought his hands up to Alfred's arms, ready to push the American away…but he couldn't. Delicious warmth had spread down to Arthur's loins and instead he found his arms moving on their own accord, sliding up to wrap around Alfred's neck.

Alfred pressed Arthur against the lamppost but Arthur didn't mind the cold metal biting his back, he was too hot to care. To busy savoring the odd yet mouth-watering taste of Alfred's tongue as Alfred continued to devour him.

But then all too quickly Alfred pulled away, slightly out of breath yet his beautiful blue eyes sparkled merrily. "I may not know much about you Arthur, but there is one thing I am utterly certain of."

Arthur's brain was still foggy and he could only mutter a faint, "What?"

"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Alfred breathed, smiling warmly, "I realized that they moment I saw you for the first time. I tried to ignore it, I tried to talk myself out of it but…" he squeezed Arthur's waist, "I just really wanted to kiss you."

Arthur started to smile, feeling warmth budding in his chest, this American really was crazy, but he was also incredibly handsome and the sweetest person he had ever met. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he saw him more, maybe it would actually be really wonderful…

"No," the word came out of Arthur's mouth as soon as he thought it, but he didn't regret it. "No, this is a mistake." This would end just as well as _last time_.

Alfred blinked, confused, "But I-"

Arthur shook his head emphatically and pulled out of Alfred's grasp, "Don't say anything, what just happened…that was an error in judgment."

Alfred's eyes flashed with hurt and Arthur quickly looked away before he could start apologizing.

"Arthur…" Alfred didn't finish, his voice sounded tight.

"Leave me alone, Alfred," Arthur forced himself to snap, his chest aching. "I don't want to talk about this again; I don't want to see you again. I want to forget that what I just did was the most disgusting thing I've ever done."

He could practically hear Alfred flinch, but when he spoke his voice was hard, "Fine. Goodbye, _Arty_." Then he was gone.

Arthur tried to catch his breath, tried not to get sick; tried not to hate himself. This was what had to be done. He couldn't lose himself like last time, the results would be the same, and Arthur was tired of being hurt.


	6. Chapter 6

Ch. 6:

Matthew watched his brother devour the chocolate ice cream container at an alarming rate, his face scrunched up with a mixture of bewilderment and concern.

"…Maybe you should slow-"

He stopped short when Alfred gave him a deadly glare. "Never mind," Matthew muttered, turning back to walk into the kitchen.

In a matter of hours Alfred had eaten his way in junk and had even got sick at one occasion. Matthew had no idea why, he just knew a few days ago Alfred had came back to the hotel around one in the morning and looked furious. He had started consuming whatever he could get his hands on and muttering under his breath. Matthew noticed how his eyes looked slightly red.

Matthew's phone vibrated, looking at the text he had just received he smiled to himself…looks like he'd be going out again, but first he needed to do something about his brother.

Suddenly Alfred let out a loud yell and Matthew rushed back to the living room, "What- what happened?!"  
Alfred was looking at the screen looking both incredibly upset and extremely frustrated. "Mr. Darcy LOVES you Lizzy! Can't you just give the poor guy a chance!?"

Matthew quickly switched the TV off and Alfred let out an indignant choke.

"Dude, I was watching that!"

Matthew turned to his brother with his hands on the hips, "I'm sorry Alfred, but when you get so depressed you start watching literary classics I have to put my foot down."

"What are you talking about," Alfred demanded, "I watch literary classics all the time!"

"You watch _action_ movies that are based off books," Matthew replied, "You don't watch things like _Pride and Prejudice_."

"It's nice to know that someone else's love life sucks as bad as mine."

Those words made Matthew stall, he looked at his brother with newfound worry, "…What happened the other day, Al?"

Alfred placed his container on the coffee table and crossed his arms stubbornly, looking at the wall, "Nothing." But his voice sounded slightly tight and his eyes were getting mysteriously damp.

Matthew walked over to sit down next to his brother and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Remember when I first came to live with you and Dad? How all the kids at school were picking on me? You asked me what was wrong and I didn't tell you until…"

Alfred slightly smirked, "Until I finally wormed it out of you, and then I kicked those kids to next week." He glanced at Matthew, "But why are you bringing this up?"

"Because I may not be able to beat up people like you, but I can sure as hell listen when something is bothering my brother. And I'll keep nagging him until he tells me," Matthew smiled.

Alfred seemed to perk up a bit then let out a groan, his eyes flashing with annoyance, "It's more like _someone_ is bothering me."

"Continue," Matthew urged calmly.

"It's not like I planned it you know," Alfred went on, not even looking at Matthew, "But I just kind of felt it, it was kind of like a spark. And he totally felt it to!"

Matthew's eyes slightly widened but he didn't say anything as his brother continued.

"So we talked and laughed for a bit and then I kissed him! And I don't care if I've had limited experience I'm a good kisser! And he kissed me back! But what does he do right after, kicks me to the ground like I was just there to get him off!"

Alfred suddenly turned on his brother and Matthew tensed up in surprise, "You want to know what's the worst part!?"  
"What," he asked quietly.

"He's _lying_," Alfred spat, "I know he liked kissing me! I know he wasn't disgusted! He just has some serious intimacy issues, is all!"

"Who's he," Matthew dared to ask.

Alfred took a moment to catch his breath, but then whispered the word, "Arthur." His anger faded and he almost seemed to deflate before Matthew's eyes, "Arthur Kirkland."

Matthew blinked, "Isn't Kirkland the name of that big British politician, Arthur must be his son."

Alfred looked at him wearily, "Yeah, I think he mentioned that when we first met. Said he had to follow his dad's footsteps. I don't think it's what he wants though." A small smile suddenly invaded his mouth, "But you know…when he did actually tell me a little about himself, I got really happier…I felt closer…"

Alfred let out another yell and stood up, startling his brother. "W-what is it," Matthew asked, clutching his chest.

"I can't take this anymore, I sound like an old lady way past her prime and reminiscing about the one that got away," Alfred gritted his teeth and made a growl-like noise, "That jerk wants to act this way, fine, see if I care. I'll make sure I never see him again. But right now I have to go do something wild and spontaneous."

Alfred started pacing the room, looking dreadfully serious and thoughtful while Matthew sat watching. His quiet brother was starting to regret turning off _Pride and Prejudice _when Alfred stopped and his face lit up, "I got it!"

"Got what," Matthew asked, feeling suddenly terrified.

"I'm going to a bar!" Alfred grabbed his jacket and started heading to the door.

"But you don't have a license," Matthew called back.

"I know, but I need to remind myself how sexy I am and what better way than getting older men to buy me drinks," Alfred winked over his shoulder, "Wish me luck, Mattie."

Matthew stared after his brother in open mouth horror as Alfred left the room; only when Alfred had disappeared did he think to speak.

"Oh, God…If he becomes an alcohol prostitute…" Matthew curled up on the couch, "Dad's going to kill me."

Dylan looked at his older brother with a mixture of confusion and slight concern, "Okay, now this is getting weird."

"Agreed," Allistor mumbled back as they stood at Arthur's doorway.

Their baby brother was buried under a heap of blankets, only his more messy than usual hair and glassy green eyes could be seen. On the television was what appeared to be another American romance, Arthur had been watching these for three days straight now.

"Did you have a falling out with that Alfred guy or something," Allistor asked.

"Shut up," Arthur murmured, not looking at his brothers, "Go away."

"We would if we could," Dylan groaned, "But now Dad and Mum's all worried about you and assigned us to get you out of your melodrama."

"I don't want to leave my melodrama," Arthur whined, burrowing deeper into the blankets.

"Calm on, Arthur," Allistor walked over and turned off the film, "We refuse to have a home body as a brother."

"Correct, and weren't you suppose to make Dad proud," Dylan asked, coming over and trying to pull the blankets off Arthur. "You were supposed to be the golden child!"

"I don't want to," Arthur growled, not letting Dylan pull the blankets off.

Allistor and Dylan looked at each other helplessly, this really was serious. And it was all because of some American?

"That's it," Allistor walked over and slid his hands under the covers before dragging a surprised and flaying Arthur out, "You're coming with us."

"Where are we going," Dylan asked as Allistor held their struggling brother.

"To drink," Allistor said with a grin, "We're getting that American out of our brother's head."

"He's not in my head," Arthur snapped, his face suddenly red, "Nothing is!"

"Either way," Allistor grinned at his flustered brother, "We all need a drink."

Alfred couldn't help feeling pretty proud. Arriving at the nearest bar he could find he had quickly won over both men and women with his charming smile and quirky behavior. And he had finally got his drinks.

He quickly finished another shot, barely feeling tipsy. People whose names he didn't know and whose faces he probably wouldn't remember surrounded him.

"You never tell us your name, sweetness," one man who seemed particularly interested said as he sat side by side with Alfred, practically sitting in his lap.

Alfred smiled teasingly, "I think it's a little to be late to be asking that."

The man laughed, running a hand over Alfred's shoulder, "Oh you Americans are a naughty bunch aren't you." His voice had dropped an octave but Alfred tried to ignore it.

While he had come with the plan to get free drinks off people, he found he wasn't attracted to any of them. And despite himself he kept comparing all these Brits to a man with messy blond hair and thick eyebrows.

Gritting his teeth Alfred took another drink that was exactly the reason he had come here, to forget that annoying Brit who couldn't even be honest with himself. That was it right…Arthur just can't come to terms with his sexuality…it wasn't that he didn't like Alfred, right?

Arthur buried his face in the bar, feeling awful. A thick glass of some alcohol he didn't care to identify in his hand, beside him Allistor was on his third drink, already swaying a bit. On Allistor's other side Dylan drank more calmly, as always he would be the designated driver tonight.

"Stiff upper lip, laddie," Allistor told him, "Look around you, there's plenty to distract you from that foreigner."

"Bugger off, asshole," Arthur growled, not lifting his head.

Dylan spoke up, "You know, Allistor, I'm really starting to think that crazy American has captured our baby brother's heart."

"What like that frenchie?"  
Arthur groaned, wishing they would both shut up. Leave it to them to bring up both reasons he was feeling like this. Yes, he was attracted to Alfred, insanely attracted. But he couldn't put himself out there, he just couldn't. He was too bloody scared it would end the same as it ended with that stupid French frog. But despite his fear Arthur could still taste Alfred, could still feel the warmth of his lips…

A sudden loud and familiar sounding laughter made him groan even louder, "This alcohol isn't working. I'm even hearing that idiot."

"Oh, you heard that too," Allistor asked, "I thought it was just me."

Arthur's head shot up at those words and he looked around for the source of the laughter, peering through the mass of bodies and tables until he saw, in the far corner, a familiar looking jacket.

"Oh, bullocks," Arthur growled, watching as Alfred flirted with some man who was older than even Arthur. Suddenly the man whispered something in Alfred's ear and the American blushed, then the man brought his mouth to Alfred's lips…

Arthur suddenly felt a cold weight in his stomach, his heart beat faster and with a start he realized he wasn't angry. He was pissed off!

"Calm yourself, Arthur," Dylan sighed, "Let me pay for the drinks and we can leave."

But Arthur suddenly jumped off his stool, surprising both of his brothers as he started marching roughly through the dancing crowd toward Alfred.

It may have been the alcohol but the moment he stood before Alfred he was struck by how beautiful this boy was, and Arthur's throat suddenly went dry. Not sure what to say.

But then Alfred and the man looked up and Arthur's anger returned, he glared down at them both.

Alfred looked surprised and embarrassed to see Arthur, "Uh-what-what are you doing here Arty?"

"You know this man," the stranger beside him glared up at Arthur with a smirk, Arthur was incredibly close to strangling this bastard.

"Oh, um…" Alfred trailed off, he gave Arthur a confused look, "Yeah, not sure why he's here though." His confusion then was replaced with anger and he glared at Arthur, "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Leave," Arthur hissed at the man glued to Alfred's side and the stranger laughed.

"No, I don't think I will. Al and I were just getting acquainted."

"Fine," Arthur replied tightly, "If you won't leave then we will." Then before he could think better of it he grabbed Alfred's hand and dragged him roughly to his feet.

"Hey," both Alfred and the man barked but Arthur was already dragging Alfred out of the bar, his vision still red and now his stomach was burning.

Outside the air was cool and slightly cleared Arthur's muddled thoughts. He was burning, he was aching; he was throbbing.

"Arthur, what are you doing," Alfred demanded, sounding both angry and confused.

Coming toward an empty bench Arthur whirled around, grabbed Alfred's shoulders and while the American was still surprised, dragged down onto the bench. Then he tackled Alfred's lips, sliding his tongue in and all but devouring him. He was slightly aware that he was gripping Alfred's shoulders too tightly, was kissing him so rough that a trail of saliva trailed down his chin, but he didn't care.

Until he finally accepted the fact he needed to breathe and pulled away, not releasing Alfred's arms just in case the boy wanted to run.

He stared into Alfred's shocked, flushed face and snarled, "_NO ONE_ is allowed to kiss you but _ME_!"

He was met with silence, and as Arthur breathing steadied he became more and more ashamed. What the hell was wrong with him? Insulting this kind boy after he had been so kind to him, after he had given him such a wonderful kiss, and now attacking him like he was something Arthur could claim.

Before he could run away in sheer self-disgust Alfred spoke, "Then kiss me…"

Alfred was smiling warmly at him, his blue eyes sparkling; he lifted his arms, welcoming Arthur.

The Brit's eyes widened and he suddenly wanted to cry. He slowly brought his lips back to Alfred, much gentler now as he leaned against Alfred, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Alfred returned the embrace and participated more in the kiss, softly nibbling Arthur's lips and tasting his tongue. At the same time Arthur felt tears start to form in his eyes he detected that Alfred's shoulders were starting to shake.


	7. Chapter 7

Ch. 7:

"A couple of years back I met this man from France, he was a bit flashy but he was handsome and charming and we seemed to hit it off." Arthur laughed bitterly, "For a few months we had a great time."

He sat on the bench next to Alfred, telling him something he had not even told his family. But if one person needed to know it was Alfred, who just sat there quietly, listening. If there was one person who _deserved _to know it, it was Alfred.

"Then what happened," Alfred asked quietly.

Arthur heaved a heavy sigh and took a few moments to answer, "… He grew bored of me. I thought we were having a great time…I was really, really happy…but I was wrong." He laughed mirthlessly and looked up at Alfred, "Now you see why I find myself so boring?"

Arthur looked back down at his lap, but then felt Alfred's warms fingers wrap around his own, "Did you really love this French guy?"

Arthur let out another sigh; he was doing that a lot lately, "I'm not completely sure. Maybe, once, when I thought he felt the same. Before I found out more about him," Arthur smirked sardonically, "Not long after he broke up with me Allistor told me some things he found out about him, the disgusting stuff he did ha! I'm lucky I didn't catch anything from him."

But Alfred didn't laugh, he just watched Arthur with that sympathetic blue gaze, "But it still hurt, didn't it." It wasn't a question.

Arthur nodded, "Yeah, it did."

"I'm sorry," Alfred mumbled quietly.

Arthur breathed, "Thanks." Then quickly shook himself of his depression, "So, that's my sad little story, pretty pathetic huh?" He laughed painfully.

But Alfred smiled, "Want to know something sadder?"

Arthur cocked an eyebrow.

Alfred stood up and slowly turned a 360 circle, "Do you see this hot mess, Arthur?"

"Yes, is something wrong with it?"

"Yes, it's still a virgin," Alfred stopped spinning. He was red-faced with embarrassment but still smiled, "Sad huh?"

At first Arthur felt a kind of…relief, a joy, to learn that no one had touched Alfred. But then he narrowed his eyes strictly, "From what I saw tonight you were trying to remedy that."

Alfred stopped smiling and looked slightly guilty, he absently kicked at the side walk, "I wasn't trying to get someone to sleep with me; I just wanted someone to buy me a drink."

"Why," Arthur asked.

Alfred looked up at the sky, looking both awkward and annoyed, "Because a few days ago my ego received a severe blow from a giant-browed Brit and I needed someone to remind me I'm pretty."

Now it was Arthur's turn to look guilty, "I-I'm sorry." He squirmed on the bench, "But as you see…I had my reasons."

"Yeah, I know," Alfred didn't sound angry, "So it's unfair of you to get all upset about me trying to get my spirits up."

"There are other ways," Arthur said, "You're nineteen that man you were kissing was around forty."

Alfred huffed, "Like you're one to talk."

"_Twenty five isn't old Alfred_," Arthur said, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

But Alfred just laughed before walking back to Arthur; he suddenly kneeled and rested his elbows on the surprised Brit's legs. "Don't worry, you may be old but you're a much better kisser."

Arthur blushed, "Thanks…I think."

Before either could say more Arthur heard loud, obnoxious voices call his name and he groaned. "That's Allistor and Dylan; they must be ready to go home." He looked ruefully down at Alfred, "I'm sorry, I have to go."

Alfred looked incredibly disappointed but nodded and stood up, "Okay."

Arthur got up and headed toward his brothers' voices when Alfred suddenly captured his hand, he looked back with surprise.

"I want," Alfred's entire face was beet red, "I want…to see you again."

Arthur couldn't help but smile, "Yes, I want to see you again too…how about tomorrow?"

Alfred's whole body seemed to perk up, "Really?" His eyes shone like sapphire diamonds.

Arthur nodded, "Meet me here at three." Then he gently pulled his hand out of Alfred's grasp, "Goodbye."

"Bye," Alfred mumbled with a wave.

As Arthur left he thought about how tomorrow couldn't come quickly enough.

Alfred was whistling a happy tune when he opened the door to his and Matthew's hotel room. What a great night! And tomorrow would be even better.

"Mattie," he called out, "You still awake?"

His brother was suddenly in front of him, blushing and looking incredibly flustered, "Keep your voice down."

Alfred blinked in surprise, "What is it," he whispered, "Is there a robber in the room?"

Matthew gave his brother the 'you're crazy' look before quickly shaking his head, "No-it's just-" he blushed even more; "We have a guest."

Alfred followed Matthew's gaze to the couch and before his brother could stop him, walked over.

Lying sprawled across the couch was a man, he looked to be in his early twenties like Arthur, with long soft-looking blond hair and light stubble on his chin; he wore a fancy shirt and pants and was snoring softly.

Alfred looked back at his brother, "Who the hell is this?"

Matthew shrugged with a small smile, "This is my friend I told you about, Francis Bonnefoy."

So _this _was the guy Matthew was spending all his time with, Alfred looked at the sleeping stranger with newfound interest, "What's he doing here?"

"Oh, well we were supposed to go hang out tonight but what with your depression and attempts at being an alcohol prostitute I kind of forgot. So Francis came to check on me and we just stayed here."

Alfred turned to his brother with slight alarm, looked down at Francis, then back at his brother.

"What's that look for," Matthew demanded, almost offensively.

Alfred walked over to his brother and whispered frantically, "Are you still a flower?"

Matthew looked at him with confusion, "Am I still a _what_?"

"Is my little baby brother still a maiden," Alfred rephrased, starting to get a little panicked. Alfred couldn't let his younger, slightly less attractive brother lose his virginity before him!

Matthew gasped in anger, his cheeks flaming, "YES, I AM!"

The shout made Francis mumble and slowly sit up, making Matthew's eyes widened and his red cheeks going darker.

Francis stretched languidly before turning around, he smiled warmly at Matthew for a moment before noticing Alfred and he blinked in surprise. "Am I seeing double?" His French accent was thick and Alfred remembered that a man who was probably similar to Francis broke Arthur's heart. Alfred was suddenly afraid for his brother.

"Francis," Matthew spoke up, "This is the brother I told you about, Alfred. Alfred, this is Francis."

Francis smiled cheerfully up at Alfred before extending a hand, "Bonjour."

"You too," Alfred replied, allowing a slight smile as he took Francis's hand, he seemed friendly enough.

"You're brother was frightfully worried for you," Francis said, resting his elbows on the back of the couch and putting his head in his hands, "Did you end up selling your body for wine like he feared you would?"

Now it was Alfred who blushed, "_No_! Actually Mattie, remember that problem I had before I left?" Alfred couldn't help but smile at his next words, "It's solved."

Matthew looked up at him with surprised delight, "Really, how?"

"What are we talking about," Francis asked, looking a little upset to be left out of the conversation.

"Alfred had a falling out with a new friend of his," Matthew explained before turning back to his brother, "But you said it's resolved?"

"I said it's solved," Alfred replied, then couldn't help a proud lift of his head, "Arthur and I are going to hang out tomorrow at three."

Neither noticed Francis's eyes widen when Matthew spoke next. "So you're going on a date?'

Alfred looked away in embarrassment, "I wouldn't call it a date. Just two friends hanging out, that's all."

"Well that's good," Matthew smirked but Alfred knew his brother didn't believe him. And to be honest Alfred didn't mind calling it a date, it actually had a nice ring to it. But he didn't know if Arthur would feel the same way.

"Well then, considering it's like two in the morning you need to get some sleep," Matthew replied, nudging his brother to his room.

"What about him," Alfred stopped and looked pointedly at Francis, he didn't know if he wanted the French man to spend the night under the same roof as Matthew. Matthew looked from one to the other, looking unsure but then Francis spoke: "I need to head back to my friends anyway, don't worry. Sorry for falling asleep on your couch," he laughed breezily, "But I'm glad I got to meet the famous Alfred." He stood up and gave a flashy bow, "Au revoir."

Then with a smile and wink at Matthew he departed.

"I don't know if I trust that guy," Alfred said quietly, thinking about Arthur.

"Oh, you just met him," Matthew scoffed, "And you've never liked any of my friends."  
"Hey, it's not my fault you had weird friends," Alfred defended himself, "But no, I mean, he doesn't look at you like your friends, you know."

Matthew just shook his head impatiently, "Go to bed, Alfred."

Alfred obeyed; he was worried about his brother getting too close to that Frenchman; however his worries quickly vanished when he thought about what tomorrow would bring.


	8. Chapter 8

Ch. 8:

"I didn't think you were coming," Arthur tried not to sound too relieved as he stood up.

Alfred rushed over to the bench where Arthur was standing and stopped to take a few breaths, "Sorry, my alarm's battery died or something." Alfred smiled apologetically and Arthur's heart did a little flip but he tried to ignore it.

"So, where are we going," Alfred asked.

Arthur smiled slyly, "You'll see."

Alfred's eyes flashed with excitement, "Then lead the way, Arty."

"Arthur," he corrected as they started walking. "It's Arthur."

"Oh neat," Alfred looked up at the theater with awe, "We're going to see a play?"

"Yes, we are," Arthur replied, grabbing Alfred's arm and pulling him down an alley.

"Um, the theater's _that_ way," Alfred said with a bit of unease.

"Yes and the tickets are also sold out," Arthur smirked over his shoulder at the bemused American, "So we're getting in another way."

Alfred watched with silent wonder as they arrived at the back of the theater, there he knocked on the back door and was greeted by a brutish man who smiled when he saw Arthur and asked about his brothers. After a few moments of chatter the man led the two inside and pointed them up toward a flight of stairs, reaching the top Alfred saw it was a balcony, higher than all the others and empty except for them and a few rows of unoccupied seats.

"I hope you're not afraid of heights," Arthur said, releasing Alfred's arm and looking at him with concern.

Alfred just blinked at him with downright shock and wonder before finally speaking, "Did you seriously just sneak us into a theater…for free…illegally…?"

Arthur couldn't help a proud smirk, "My brother and I have always had connections, and having a powerful and well known politician as your father helps."

Arthur walked over and sat in the first row, "Come sit down, the play's about to start."

The room darkened and Alfred quickly joined Arthur, looking around apprehensively, "Just to be clear…this place doesn't have like, I don't know, any ghost stories connected to it…does it?"

Arthur gave him an odd look but shook his head and Alfred sagged with relief before turning his eyes to the large stage, "They kind of look like ants from down here."

"That's why nobody uses this balcony anymore," Arthur explained, "Sorry we couldn't get closer."

"Its fine," Alfred assured, eyes on the stage, he then started laughing quietly.

"What," Arthur asked.

Alfred gave him a knowing look, "Is it just a coincidence that the play is _Romeo and Juliet_?"

Arthur smiled back, "Actually it is."

But as they play started and they turned their attention to it Arthur suddenly felt a strange kinship to Juliet for the very first time, when she was blown away by the mere sight of Romeo, Arthur knew that quickening of the heart, knew that stopping of breath. Felt her warmth and affection at the balcony scene, he felt it all.

All throughout the play he cast glances at Alfred, who was watching the stage with glittering eyes, and then at the marriage scene he looked over at Arthur and smiled. Arthur quickly looked away, his cheeks burning and butterflies fluttering in his chest. Suddenly _he _felt like the inexperienced virgin.

Arthur kept all his focus on the play after that, determined to get through it without getting flustered. But toward the end where the two star-crossed lovers began to take their lives he felt warm fingers intertwine with his own and he froze.

"Sorry," Alfred mumbled quietly, still watching the play, "It's just…it's sad…"

"I know," Arthur nodded, then after a moment gave Alfred's hand a squeeze, the American smiled.

As the final words drew the play to a close Alfred jumped up and clapped along with the rest of the audience, Arthur chuckled at his enthusiasm and clapped much more calmly.

"That was fun," Alfred said as they left the theater and traveled down the street, it was getting dark, "You got anything else for me?"

Arthur smiled, "Yes, I'm going to make sure you have a proper drink."

Alfred blinked, "But I'm under aged, as you've told me before."

"True," Arthur admitted, "But you'll remember that I have connections."

Arthur led the now incredibly excited American to an old bar where the bartender nodded in greeting to Arthur. He gave them the drinks they ordered without so much as a word and Arthur could've laughed at Alfred's awestruck impression.

"Dude, I love London," Alfred stated, tasting his drink, "It's almost as great as America."

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Oh, and what makes your America so great?"

"Hamburgers," Alfred stated, looking oddly professional, "There isn't a restaurant in my home land where you can't get a hamburger."

"You know there are other things in life," Arthur smirked.

Alfred looked at him as if Arthur had just stated he was Peter Pan. "Like what?"

"Tea," Arthur replied then sighed dreamily, "The nectar of the gods that is."

But Alfred made a disgusted face, "But don't you guys drink that nasty warm stuff?"

That made Arthur blink, "You say it like tea is served any other temperature."

Now Alfred just looked worried, he took a swallow of his drink before speaking, "You know we Americans mainly drink iced tea."

"What the bloody hell is iced tea," Arthur demanded in shock.

"…Tea…with ice…"

Arthur quickly took a drink to distract himself, the thought of iced tea sounded terrifying.

"Oh you're one to talk," Alfred puffed, then got a sneaky/flirty look in his eye, "Tell me, Arty. How's your spotted dick?"

Arthur cocked his head, "What, you mean the pudding?"

Alfred dropped his head onto the table, startling both Arthur and the bartender.

"Dude, how can that be the first thing that pops into your mind when you hear those words?"

"Because it's a very delicious dessert," Arthur said brightly and Alfred rolled his eyes, knowing his joke was a lost cause.

They went on like this for a while, playfully arguing about their cultures while consuming a good bit of the bar. After a while they couldn't stop smiling and giggling like little school girls.

"This has been a bloody great bloody night," Alfred cheered in a terrible British accent, he raised the drink to the bartender, "Barky! Be a good ol' chap and fill me up!"

"I do not sound like that," Arthur laughed and then spoke in an equally terrible American accent, "Dude, buddy, get me some more alcohol will you bro?"

Alfred's head fall to the counter as he laughed, "You sound like a surfer!"

The bartender merely rolled his eyes in faint amusement before refilling their drinks.

"But seriously, mate," Alfred continued in that stereotypical accent, "Thanks for hanging out with me tonight."

Arthur grinned cheekily, "No problem-o old buddy, but hey, hey, what about that play huh? Wasn't it cool how I totally snuck us in like a smooth m-effer?"

Alfred laughed again at Arthur's accent, "Oh you were spot on love." He then looked away with a far off gaze, "You know, I felt a connection with dear Romeo, I now know how it feels to fall head over heels in love."

"No way, dude, so do I," Arthur replied before taking another large swallow of his refilled glass. Alfred watched him quietly.

"It makes no sense!" Arthur suddenly slammed his glass down so hard Alfred jumped and the bartender turned to make sure he hadn't broken the glass.

"What doesn't," Alfred asked.

"Why is he called Batman," Arthur demanded, "It's not like he's half bat or anything! And why is there so many fans for Joker, that clown is so mental! And am I the only one who finds it weird Batman travels with an under aged boy!"

Alfred brought his hand up to his chest, touched, "You looked up Batman?"

"Well you made such a big deal about," Arthur went on nonchantely "I must admit I am intrigued by the character of Harley Quinn…such a kooky she-beast she is!"

"Oh, baby," Alfred shuddered, "Don't talk Batman, it's seriously turning me on."

There was a moment of deep silence before they both threw up their heads and laughed, Arthur cackling so hard he fell off the stool, but only laughed harder when he hit the floor.

"I think I better cut you gentlemen off," the bartender said, taking their drinks.

"Good idea, chap," Alfred laughed, "I'll get this wasted bloke out of here."

"Put it on my big brother's tab," Arthur said as Alfred pulled him to the floor. But the moment Arthur was standing on his own he started to sink again and Alfred quickly caught him, laughing, "You really _are _wasted!"

"W to the A to the S to the T to the Ed-WASTED," Arthur cheered as Alfred pulled the Brit onto his back, immediately Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck, looking like an overgrown infant.

"Farewell, Barky," Alfred called as he walked/stumbled; "While our time together was brief it was _heavenly_!"

Outside Alfred headed down the street; he had a vague sense of where Arthur's house was.

"You really are strong," Arthur breathed warm air on Alfred's neck.

"I'd be modest and say you're just light," Alfred said, "But I'd be lying."

Arthur half-heartedly tried to kick him but only kicked air. After that the two traveled in silence for a bit before Arthur spoke again.

"Say, Alfred. Was this a date?"

Alfred's heart quickened at the words and he swallowed, "Oh um, I'm not sure…probably not." Then since alcohol consumption made one bold he added, "People usually kiss on dates."

"That's true," Arthur murmured almost too quietly to hear. Then Alfred felt Arthur's lips on his neck.

Alfred nearly jumped out of his skin, he was surprisingly sensitive there. "Arty! What are you doing!?"  
"I can't reach your lips from back here," Arthur whispered before licking Alfred's flesh.

Alfred squirmed, his entire body getting hot and bothered, "Can't you…do that later?"

Arthur moved his lips and spoke in a hurt tone, "Doesn't it feel good?"

"Yes," Alfred admitted, "But I just-"

"_Arthur_?"

They both looked up to see Allistor across the street, staring at them in disbelief.

"Big Brother," Arthur cried out happily and Allistor's jaw dropped.

"How much did you drink," he demanded as he walked over to them.

Alfred laughed breathily, the earlier kiss forgotten in his fogged mind, "I can't remember, I think we stopped counting after…six! Or was it eight?"

Allistor let out a sigh, "Well, thanks for not leaving my brother in a ditch. He knows he's a terrible alcoholic."

"I am NOT," Arthur yelled indignantly, nearly blasting Alfred's ear drum, "I'm great at it! I even have a spot on American accent!"

"No, you don't," Alfred and Allistor said quickly. Alfred sounded terrified to hear it again, Allistor sounded like he had heard it many times.

He lifted his brother off Alfred's back and tossed him over his shoulder. ("I'm upside down!") He looked at Alfred, "Can you make it back to your hotel well enough?"

Alfred saluted, "Aye, aye, sir. See you guys later!"

"Wait, wait," Arthur suddenly called out when Alfred turned to leave, "Allistor you jerk! Give Alfred our number!"

Allistor sighed before pulling out his phone, Alfred did the same and after a few moments of finding the keys successfully added Arthur's number to his contacts.

He smiled cheekily, "Call you later."

Allistor gave him a pityingly look, "After all the drinks you've probably consumed, I highly doubt that."


	9. Chapter 9

Ch. 9:

The next morning Alfred found out that Allistor was correct, with the nails being driven into his head he could barely move let alone call someone. He was glad that Matthew stayed home to help tend to him; Alfred thought he heard Francis once in a while but he was sure it was his imagination.

That night Alfred finally got the willpower to sit up, Matthew beside him handing him a cup of coffee which Alfred downed.

"I'm sorry," Matthew said, sounding slightly amused, "But this is what happens when underage people drink."

"Shut up," Alfred moaned, pressing the wet cloth on his head, "Arthur's twenty five and I bet he's got a worse hangover than me. Where's the phone, I want to call him and see."

Matthew handed Alfred his cell phone and Alfred quickly dialed the number, waiting with baited breath as it rang.

"Go away," a voice groaned immediately and Alfred had to hold back a chuckle.

"Sounds like you had a fun day," Alfred said.

Arthur groaned again, "Alfred…sorry I said that but…I may literally be dying right now."  
"Is that so," Alfred asked with a raised brow.

"Yes, is there anything I should leave you in my will?"

Alfred hummed thoughtfully, "Not really, but now I'm disappointed. If you die we can't hang out anymore."

There was a pause on the other line then Arthur spoke, "You still want to hang out with me?"  
Alfred couldn't help a laugh at that, "Of course I do. What makes you think I wouldn't?"

"Well…everything's mostly a blurry but I recall I may have sexually assaulted your neck last night."

"Oh, that," Alfred rubbed the spot where he could still feel Arthur's lips, "Don't worry about that, we were both pretty drunk."

Matthew looked at him with new interest and Alfred made a shooing motion at him, Matthew smirked but stood up and left, making sure to slam the door and send a ringing pain through his brother's head.

"That jerk," he moaned quietly.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Alfred assured, "But anyway yes, I do want to go on more dates with you."

"W-w-what makes you think last night was a date," Arthur stammered. Alfred could imagine the adorable blush creeping up on his cheeks, and he smiled.

"It's just a feeling I have," Alfred said, "Unless _you _don't want to go."

"No-no I do…just," he groaned again, "Not right now."

Alfred laid his sore head back down, "Agreed, let's wait to make sure we really don't die before we make plans."

But the two did survive, and they did make plans. They spent nearly every day together, either hanging out at Alfred's apartment or Arthur's house. Or going out to see the sights and take pictures. Though Arthur didn't know Alfred had taken more pictures of him than he did the sights. And at the end of every day, before they parted ways they shared a stolen kiss, usually just a peck but oh how Arthur lived for those kisses. Losing himself in the memory of them, sometimes in class when he was suppose to be taking notes or studying he'd find himself running his finger over his lips, imaging he could still taste the American. Alfred may not be one of the most talented kissers, but his taste was definitely worth it. His brothers were catching on pretty quick and kept teasing their brother, Allistor and Dylan making sexual innuendos and Peter prancing around that Arthur and Alfred were sitting in a tree. As June slowly turned to July Arthur was beginning to realize something…something he wasn't ready to admit…but maybe soon.

"Where are you heading," Alfred asked as he and his brother stood in the elevator on the way down.

Matthew was dressed in the best clothes he had brought, the rose from the table tucked in his shirt pocket, and his face was twisted into an adorable smile.

"Oh, uh…Francis and I are going on…on a date," Matthew said, looking down at his shoes with a happy blush.

Alfred smiled, over the weeks he had got to meet Francis, who came over to hang out with Matthew, offer friendly idle chats with Alfred before taking his brother out on a night out of town, and Matthew had always come back beaming.

"Planning on being deflowered tonight," Alfred smirked.

Matthew glared at him, "No! I mean…that isn't the plan…"

Alfred blinked and after half of second of thinking about his brother and Matthew getting it on he quickly decided that had been a bad question.

"Where are you going," Matthew asked after a few moment of awkward silence, "To Arthur's?"  
Alfred nodded happily, "His parents and brothers are out and their staff gets the weekend off, so it'll just be us."

Matthew gave his brother a knowing look but Alfred ignored it, "He's coming to 'pick me up' doesn't trust me to remember the way."

The elevator dinged and the two headed outside, only to see a familiar blond waiting out on the street.

"Bonjour, mi ami," Francis greeted Alfred with a friendly grin before turning his eyes on Matthew. The three were silent as Francis seem to devour Matthew with his eyes, Matthew blushing under the Frenchman's eyes and Alfred started feeling like a third wheel.

"So," he interrupted loudly, getting both of them to look at him, "Where are you guys heading?"

Arthur headed towards Alfred's hotel, humming to himself. He was looking forward to spending the day with Alfred, and having his father's house all to himself. He tried not to think about what exactly they would do there, he didn't want to get his hopes up or anything.

Spotting the hotel Alfred picked up the pace, a smile spreading across his face at the thought of seeing that wild, beautiful American and…

Arthur stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widened and his face paled in horror. Across the road stood Alfred, standing next to Matthew whom Arthur met a few weeks ago but Arthur wasn't paying attention to him.

He was staring at the man Alfred was talking to.

The years had not changed him, still tall, still thin, still had that long blond hair that Arthur remembered being so soft, those blue eyes that had always glinted with a kind of seduction that had made Arthur's knees weak. The same eyes that had cast him an almost pityingly look before he had turned to leave and never come back.

But now he had returned, Francis Bonnefoy, Arthur's first love, and his first heart break, and he was talking to Alfred.

Arthur felt his teeth grit and his fists clench, he was starting to see red and he could just imagine the conversation they were having:

"Oh, you have been going on dates with little Arthur? And you haven't fallen asleep? Shocking, I must say. Did he not tell you we spent a whole year together? That little Oliver Twist actually thought it was serious! Ha, as if I could spend the rest of my life with that boring child, and when I say boring I mean on the street _and _in the sheets!"

Arthur's depressing thoughts stopped when he saw Francis extend his hand and pat Alfred's shoulder, it was then Arthur ran. But not away, he ran straight into Francis.

"_YOU DAMN GIT_," he screeched, tackling Francis to the ground.

"_Arthur_," Francis gasped his eyes wide with shock.

"How dare you come back," Arthur hissed, trying to grab the man's throat but Francis had his arms in a tight grip, "How dare you touch him!"

"Arthur, what are you doing," Alfred demanded in shock but Arthur wasn't listening. He needed to scratch Francis's eyes out before he could calm down and listen. But then a pair of arms wrapped around his waist and forcibly dragged him away from Francis who looked incredibly disheveled and distressed.

"Arthur, calm down," Alfred ordered as Arthur struggled in his grip. Arthur felt a lump in his throat as he realized that it was too late, Francis had got to him; Francis had turned Alfred away from him. Arthur was going to be alone again.

He pulled out of Alfred's grip and whirled around to glare at him, "How long!?"

Alfred blinked, looking utterly lost, "How long what?"

Arthur indicated to Francis who was being tended to by Matthew, "How long have you been with _him_!? Where you even going to tell me!?"

"Tell you…" Alfred's voice broke off and he looked with surprise from Arthur to Francis then back again, "He's…"

"Yes, he _is_," Arthur snapped bitterly, hating that his eye sight was going bleary, "You've been around this bastard all this time? What did he tell you about me!?"  
"You got it wrong, Arthur," Francis spoke up, "I-"

"SHUT UP," Arthur barked in fury, turning to glare at the frog, "Haven't you done enough? Or do you just take pleasure in watching me suffer?"

Before anyone could speak Arthur headed back toward his home, he needed to get away before he caused an even bigger scene, and before he broke down in tears in front of those two.

"Arthur, wait," Alfred called but Arthur broke into a run, this was unfair! This was so bloody unfair!

But as he ran Arthur suddenly tripped, landing fast first in a puddle and dirtying his face and clothes, Arthur wanted to stay there and sob his heart out but the sound of running footsteps made him jump to his feet and rush on.

"Arthur, please stop!"

"Leave me alone," Arthur called back, finally reached his gate and rushing into his house. He didn't stop to close until he reached the upstairs bathroom and slammed the door, locking it.

Almost immediately there was a loud knock, "Arthur, open the door!"

"Get out of my house!" Arthur cried from the other side, "I'll have you arrested for breaking and entering!"

"Just talk to me," Alfred begged, "_Please_." His voice cracking.

Arthur finally started sobbing, "You're bored of me now, and that's why you were with Francis. He was turning you against me so I'll be alone again."

"Arthur," Alfred's voice was quiet.

"Just go away," Arthur ordered, "I've been fine on my own, I'll be fine now. I don't want to be with you if you think I'm boring."

Arthur expected Alfred to say something, anything, but instead he heard retreating footsteps and then an aching silence.

Arthur stood there in disbelief, so that really had been it. Alfred was done with him, just like Francis, Arthur was alone again, and he always would be. With a shuddering sigh he turned to the shower, throwing his filthy clothes down he turned the water on hotter than he usually did, wanting the sting, wanting to hurt outside just as much as he hurt inside. The water mixed with his tears as he stood under the hot spray, his shoulders shaking. He was alone again but he could handle it, Alfred wasn't any different from Francis and he survived that.

But even as he thought it he knew that wasn't true, Alfred and Francis were not the same…Because Arthur chest hadn't ached this much when Francis left him…

Turning off the shower Arthur stumbled out, not even bothering drying off as he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed toward his room. That morning he had been excited that he had it all to himself…now he just felt completely abandoned.

Entering his room Arthur shut the door…then was tackled from behind and slammed onto his bed. He was turned onto his back and was just about to let out a scream when lips tackled him. Alfred…

Alfred kissed Arthur for a moment before breaking away and glaring down at Arthur, it was then the Brit realized that the American was completely nude.

"W-w-what are you doing," Arthur stammered, his face heating up, "Y-y-you're naked!"

"I'm making a point," Alfred snapped and Arthur realized with shock that he looked on the verge of tears, "Damn it, Arthur! What the hell is wrong with you? Have I not proved that I don't think you're boring, that is the far from boring! I…I care about you much more than that."

Alfred looked down at him desperately, "I'm sorry you thought I was leaving you, but I really didn't know that Francis was the one you were talking about."

Arthur opened his mouth to speak but Alfred shook his head, "I know you're love life hasn't been easy, Arthur. But you know what? I am so lucky to have met you, and I want to prove it. I want to show you that I don't see you as boring, that you're one of the most important things that have ever happened to me."

Arthur swallowed, "Um…how do you plan to do that, exactly?"

Alfred's face was completely red as he took a deep breath as if to steady his nerves, "I want…to give you my virginity."

The room was deathly quiet, one could hear a pin drop; Arthur stared up at Alfred, speechless, breathless. He may have had sex before but not with any virgins, no one had ever wanted to give him something so precious, and the Brit felt tears gather in his eyes and trail down his cheeks. "But…it's your first time. It should be with a woman. It would…it would be easier."

Alfred smiled and kissed Arthur's tears, "Heroes never take the easy way out. And I want to give it to someone important, someone I'll always remember."

Arthur's chest ached and he tried to smile but he was just so overwhelmed that he just cried more, "Okay…yes, okay. I want to too."

Alfred's grin grew broader and his relief washed across his face, "O-okay."

Arthur crawled out from under Alfred and reached for his bed-side drawer, pulling out a small bottle which Alfred looked at with surprise.

"It's been there for a while," Arthur explained, slightly embarrassed, "I had forgotten I put it there."

Alfred smiled and shook his head, "Right, whatever you say."

"I did-" Arthur began but was cut short when Alfred brought his lips to Arthur's. He started kissing hot, moist trails down Arthur's face, his jaw, his neck, until he reached Arthur collarbone and the Brit moaned.

"Are we doing this or not," Alfred asked, sounding slightly impatient.

Arthur wrapped his hands around Alfred and kissed his hair, "Yes, but we need to take it slow. I'll show you what to do."

Alfred nodded and looked up at Arthur, "I've…studied a bit."

Arthur smiled warmly, "Still, let's take it easy. We have all day."

Alfred nodded again and Arthur handed him the bottle, "You need to warm it with your fingers first."

Alfred did as he was told until his fingers glistened with the ointment; he looked at Arthur with a mixture of confusion, excitement, and nervousness.

Arthur felt his own face heat up as he cautiously spread his thighs, feeling like a jumpy little virgin, "…Then you…put it in."

Arthur let out a hiss as Alfred's fingers were suddenly inside him, it was still a little cold but not terribly so. And Arthur had to focus on not moving, he felt like he would come otherwise, which was ridiculous as he had never before had that urge just by having someone's fingers inside him.

"Does it hurt," Alfred asked anxiously, his eyes a darker shade that before, it sent a jolt of pleasure through Arthur.

"It's…a little tight," Arthur admitted, "But that's only natural. Don't worry about me."

Alfred still looked uncertain, "What do we do now?"

"Just…just keep doing what you're doing," Arthur panted, "Until it's good and loose." Bloody hell, how were Alfred's fingers getting him all worked up like this? Arthur bit his lip to bite back his moans as Alfred continued moving his fingers in and out, until finally Arthur grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

"That's enough…" he breathed, "I'm ready now."

Alfred smiled, "Hey, Arthur…I know it's my first time and this might not be that good of an idea, but I have a request."

Arthur's heart thumped with excitement, "What?"

Alfred moved to where his back rest against Arthur's headboard and he pulled Arthur into his lap, Arthur gasped at the feel of Alfred against him.

"I want you to ride me," Alfred whispered and Arthur shivered. Carefully positioning himself over Alfred, they both let out a gasp as Alfred penetrated him.

Arthur buried his face in Alfred's shoulders, leaving grooves on his shoulders as sensation shot through him. All his blood seemed to rush south and he groaned into Alfred's sweat-laced skin.

"Arthur," Alfred's voice was hoarse, "Look at me."

Arthur obeyed, staring into the dark blue eyes that burned with a lust that almost left Arthur in a crisp. Alfred brought his hand up to caress Arthur's cheek, his other hand moving down and grabbing him, Arthur let out a short breath, his eyes widening at the soft, warm touch and he was terrified that he really would come right then.

"I want to see your face," Alfred breathed, pressing his temple to Arthur's so all the Brit could see were those stunning blue eyes. "I want to know what you look like when you come."

Arthur shuddered with pleasure, how could a virgin be this good at seducing?

Arthur smiled warmly and wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck before rocking forward. Alfred let out a gasp of pleasure, his eyes widening before narrowing into blue slits. He started sliding his hand against Arthur who moaned in delight. They spent a few more moments like this, rocking, touching, and occasionally kissing. Arthur thought he would explode at any minute.

Alfred must have felt the same because with a sudden feral growl he slammed Arthur back down on the bed, pinning him down with his greater weight.

"You're going to squash me," Arthur joked breathlessly, distracted by the feel of Alfred's hard length pressed against him.

"Sorry, Arthur," Alfred panted, "But I don't think I can hold back anymore."

Arthur's heart beat faster, "I know…me either." He brought his legs up to surround Alfred's ribs, and Alfred quickly held them, his eyes watching Arthur for approval.

Arthur did his best to relax then nodded, "I'm ready."

Then with out thrust Alfred was completely inside.

Arthur cried out louder than he intended to, grabbing the blanket beneath him for support as Alfred continued to ram into him. Arthur hissed and moaned and told Alfred to go faster because this was amazing. Nothing before had ever felt this amazing, not even with Francis who was much more experienced than Alfred.

_No, don't think of that_, Arthur rebuked himself. The only thing that mattered was here and now, and right now Alfred was on top of him, panting and letting out quiet gasps of pleasure. Beautiful, sweet, amazing Alfred who had turned Arthur's world upside down, who made him smile and laugh, who brought color into Arthur's gray world, Alfred who was gazing down at him with such open desire and affectation that Arthur thought he would melt under that look.

Alfred opened his mouth as if to say something when the wonderful sensation finally reached its peak and shot throughout Arthur's body. He quickly covered his mouth to keep from crying out, tears leaking out of his closed eyelids.

A moment later he felt a hotness pool inside him when Alfred came too. "Arthur! Arthur!" He screamed out before falling down on top of the Brit.

Arthur smirked and wrapped his arms around the sweating, panting American.

"Arthur," Alfred breathed from where his head rested on Arthur's collarbone. "I didn't…hurt you did I?"

Arthur hugged him fondly, "No, I'm fine. What about you?"

Alfred laughed, "That was incredible! I never knew it could feel like that. I mean…_wow._"

Alfred suddenly lifted his head to look down at Arthur, "You said I didn't hurt you which is good but did you…ahem, did you like it too?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, "So much I nearly came just from having your finger inside me."

Alfred looked incredibly proud about that, "…Arthur…"

"Hmmm?"

"Can we do it again?"

Now it was Arthur's turn to laugh.


	10. Chapter 10

Ch. 10:

They spent all day memorizing each other, the taste, the feel, until they lay under the blankets, sated for now, as it grew dark out.

Alfred had drifted off into sleep, his bare arms and legs wrapped around Arthur who drowsily played with Alfred's damp hair. A smile played faintly across his face as he listened to the American's soft snores, it was so cute; he was so cute. And Arthur had to hold back an unexpected bubble of laughter; he couldn't remember feeling this happy, feeling this light. His time with Francis and anyone else was nothing compared to the short but unforgettable time he had spent with Alfred. He felt such pride that he had been Alfred's first, and knew with utmost certainty he didn't want anyone else to see Alfred like this, his built body glistening, his eyelids fluttering as he dreamed, his breath coming out soft and peaceful. He didn't want anyone to know the feel of being wrapped in Alfred's arms, to know the pleasure of being with him. He didn't want anyone to know anything…

"Alfred," Arthur murmured in his ear, "Alfred?"

"Mm," Alfred mumbled, still sounding half-asleep, "What?"

"Thank you for giving me your virginity," Arthur said gratefully.

Alfred let out a yawn before snuggling back into Arthur's neck, "No problem."

Arthur chuckled and rolled his eyes, he doubted the silly git had even understood what he said, he'd have to-

"I love you."

Arthur's world stopped. Everything from the wind outside to the blood in his veins froze at those three simple words; he stared, wide-eyed, down at Alfred who continued to sleep peacefully.

Surely he was just mumbling nonsense, talking in his sleep. He couldn't possibly…

Tears welled up in Arthur's eyes and he didn't know what to do, he didn't know how to feel, he swallowed the lump in his throat. Leaning down he kissed Alfred's head before wrapping his arms around him, holding Alfred close.

"Goodnight," he whispered, and despite the emotions that had been stirred up, Arthur fell asleep.

Alfred woke up sometime around morning with Arthur holding him, it was by the far the greatest wakeup call Alfred had ever received. He wanted nothing more than to stay with Arthur right then, thinking of how wonderful last night had been. But then he remembered what had caused it…to think it had been Francis who had broken Arthur's heart. A sudden fear hit Alfred; he had been so worried about Arthur he hadn't thought about how Matthew was taking this big reveal. And Alfred knew Matthew really cared about Francis.

Alfred quickly got up and picked his clothes off the floor, after changing into him he left a quick note for Arthur to explain why he had left, he didn't want to wake him. Giving Arthur's cheek a farewell kiss he snuck out of the mansion (which was thankfully still empty) and raced back to his hotel.

He nearly fell out at what awaited him back at the hotel, Francis and Matthew sat together on the couch, watching Saturday morning cartoons as if nothing had happened.

"Al-Alfred," Matthew jumped up, noticing his brother who stood slack-jawed at the door.

"How's Arthur," Francis asked, standing up and looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

Alfred immediately glared at the French man, making the blond man flinch, "He's great, actually. No thanks to you."

"Oh-good," Francis said, looking away awkwardly.

"Now give me one good reason why I shouldn't tear you apart after hurting Arthur and messing with my brother."

"Because I'm telling you not to," Matthew spoke up in a surprisingly vicious voice, standing protectively in front of Francis.

Alfred stared at his brother in disbelief, "Have you gone mental, Mattie? Did you not see what happened yesterday? Have you any idea-"

"Yes," Matthew cut in, "I do; Francis explained everything." Matthew took a deep breath as if to steady his nerves, "Let's talk outside, Al."

One out in the hall Alfred whirled on his brother, "What the hell is wrong with you," he whispered violently, remembering at the last second the rest of the floor was probably still asleep.

"Look you don't know Francis like I do," Matthew began, "I know he's done some terrible things but he's changed."

"No, Mattie," Alfred began, "That's what he _wants_ you to think! He'll use you just like he used Arthur."

"He said he loves me," Matthew said suddenly, "And don't look at me like that Alfred. You may think so but I'm not some little kid anymore, I know when someone's lying to me." Matthew faced Alfred's gaze dead on, "He's not lying."

It was then that Alfred noticed how messy Matthew's hair was, how wrinkled his clothes were, and he had to bite his lip from saying something. Who knew Alfred would lose his virginity the same night as his brother.

"I don't trust him, Mattie," Alfred said instead, "I don't want him to hurt you."

At that Matthew laughed, though it sounded bitter, "Alfred, I was hurt the moment I met that man. I always was, and you were hurt the moment you met Arthur."

Alfred blinked, confused, "I don't follow."

Now Matthew just looked sad, "It's July, Alfred. Do you know what happens at the end of July?"

Alfred felt his heart shatter and fall to the floor in a thousand pieces right then, "Oh right…" At the end of July they would be leaving, going back and Alfred would be forced to forget the best thing that ever happened to him. He felt like crying.

"Right," Matthew nodded, his voice was calm but Alfred saw the grief in his violet eyes, "So I'm going to enjoy the rest of my vacation as I see fit. And I want to spend it with Francis, and I'm going to whether you like it or not, and you're not going to bother us." Then without a word he turned and went back into the room. Leaving Alfred standing there, part of him wanted to run back to Arthur and savor the remaining time he had with him, the other part wanted to go back inside and stay hidden, not wanting to make the separation harder, the last part, the largest part, just wanted to weep. So Alfred did.


	11. Chapter 11

Ch. 11:

The next day Arthur and Alfred met up, they talked, they kissed, and they spent the night together. It became a pattern, a ritual. Play, smile, have fun, and don't think about what the end of the month would bring. Alfred smiled and made jokes every time Arthur saw him, but Arthur wasn't blind. He saw the sadness in Alfred's eyes, and he desperately tried to hold back his own grief. He knew this would happen eventually, no point getting all upset over it. But how could he not?

They spent the remainder of the summer searching for "the best sight in London" Arthur had no idea what it would be but Alfred seemed pretty sure he'd find it. So everyday he dragged Arthur around London, getting lost every time and leaving it to Arthur to find the way home. But he didn't mind, he'd treasure it, he'd treasure every second of it. When he left Alfred at his hotel or when Alfred left his house Arthur let the tears he had hold in fall. But he couldn't let Alfred see him like this, he couldn't. And he knew he looked miserable because his brothers didn't tease him or anything, they even gave him terrible pitying glances. But Arthur would be strong until the very end, even if he was dying inside he'd hide it, he had to…

"Why are we at Hyde Park," Arthur asked, following Alfred who carried a picnic basket and old-fashioned quilt blanket.

"I thought it was fitting since this is where we met," Alfred replied cheerfully as always. But the unspoken words hanged between them, Alfred would be leaving tomorrow.

Arthur shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts; he would not let that ruin his last chance to have a good time with Alfred.

"But it's getting a bit dark," Arthur said, surveying the darkening sky, "Isn't it a little late for a picnic?"

"Nighttime picnics are the best kind," Alfred replied, "And that way we'll have more privacy."

"Alfred I'm not going to have sex with you in the dirt," Arthur replied immediately.

Alfred broke into laughter, "Oh man and that was the whole point of this!" He turned around and starting to walk backwards, smiling at Arthur, "But no, I just think it be nice to have a picnic at the place where you met the most gorgeous person in the world."

Arthur cocked a brow at Alfred's cheeky grin, "Oh, and what about you? Who did you meet?"

"I met the best thing that has ever happened to me," Alfred said, completely serious, "And I won the championship for my high school football team."

Alfred turned around and picked up the pace, already talking about something else but Arthur had stopped in his tracks. Why the hell did Alfred have to say wonderful things like that? Did he _want_ the inevitable to hurt more?

They ended up on a hill; Alfred explaining how he had searched all morning for the perfect spot, Arthur had to agree it was nice. They had a clear view of the sky above that was twinkling with stars, and a few trees surrounded them, blocking them off from the rest of the park. Arthur liked to think it was protecting them from the coming dawn as well, that this was there little world where they could stay together.

Arthur looked down at all the food and beverages Alfred had set on the blanket and he nearly doubled over laughing.

Alfred blinked up at him, "What is it?"

"You actually bought," he wheezed, "Spotted dick!"  
Alfred shrugged, "I thought I might as well, that was one of my more favorite conversations we had."

Arthur sat down, still laughing, "Yes, it was."

"Oh, oh, close your eyes for a second," Alfred said.

Arthur gave him a wary look, "Why?"

"I got a surprise for you, a drink!"

"O-okay," Arthur closed his eyes and suddenly felt the rim of a cup on his lips; he drank the liquid dutifully before suddenly spitting out, much to Alfred's amusement.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THAT," he demanded in disgust.

Alfred held up the small jug with an innocent smile, "Iced tea."

Arthur's jaw dropped, "_What_?"

"Well you never tasted it so I made some and poured ice into it and wa-la, iced tea!"  
Arthur tackled Alfred, "You git, making me drink that freak of nature! I'll show you!"

Alfred broke into another round of laughter as Arthur started to tickle him, "No fair! I thought we were adults, not little kids!"

"Deceiving me like that was a childish thing to do," Arthur shot back, chuckling evilly. Alfred grabbed Arthur around the waist and suddenly it was the Brit who was pinned down.

"Hey, that's unfair," Arthur chuckled, squirming under Alfred, "You're heavier than me!"

"Oh so _now _you're all about fairness," Alfred snorted.

Arthur stopped struggling and smiled up at him, "I suppose I deserved that. But the iced tea was a low blow."

Alfred smiled warmly back, "Yeah…my bad."

Alfred didn't even notice the silence that followed after, he was too busy staring into pools of emerald, memorizing them…cherishing them…knowing that he'd never find eyes just as beautiful when Arthur spoke.

"The stars are out."

Alfred rolled off Arthur but kept his arms around the Brit, and looked up at the sky. Sure enough white diamonds sparkled on a bluish-black sky. Alfred caught his breath; it was so beautiful; the sky looked so endless. It was breathtaking and Alfred knew he would never forget this night.

"It's very beautiful," Arthur commented, smiling up at the sky.

Alfred glanced at him and smiled softly, "Yes," he breathed too quietly for Arthur to hear, "He is…"

They spent a moment taking in the sight when Alfred blinked and sighed with frustration.

"What," Arthur blinked at him with confusion.

Alfred sat up, feeling like a complete idiot, "I just realized there was something I never asked you."

Arthur sat up as well; his eyes alit with a mixture of confusion and curiosity, "What is that?"

Alfred turned to him, "I never asked you what your dream is."

Arthur cocked his head, "My dream?"

"If you didn't have to follow your father's footsteps, which you totally don't, what would you do? What would your dream be?"

Arthur looked to the ground, his gaze far and he appeared to be thinking real hard, finally he lifted his head up and spoke, "I'd embroider."

Alfred blinked, that was not the answer he had been expected. "You'd what?'

"When I'm old and gray I'll embroider things like sweaters and scarves," Arthur began animatedly, "I'd sell them to clothing stores but I'd also give them away free to the poor."

"But first I will join a British rock band," he continued, "We'd travel the world and show what _real _music is. On my days off I'd be a professional critic for your ridiculous American movies. Then when I've had my fun of that I'll retire, open up a really nice big library and start up embroidery."

Alfred laughed, "Wow, you got it all planned out, don't you? That's a great idea."

Arthur smiled at him, his cheeks flushed, "You really think so?"

"I'll be your band manger," Alfred offered, "And I'll get some awesome American movies you can't help but love. Then I'll buy you your giant library and help you embroider."

Arthur laughed, "That sounds fantastic you have a deal."

They went quiet once again, but it wasn't a content silence, at least…it wasn't for very long. Alfred's smile dropped when he remembered he wouldn't be here to help with Arthur's dream. Arthur realized that at the same time and looked away.

Alfred swallowed the lump in his throat; this was supposed to be fun! He rested his hand on Arthur's, the Brit didn't turn his head but he immediately grabbed a hold of Arthur's hand in a vise-like grip.

"Please look at me, Arthur," Alfred begged, hating the painful silence that had fallen.

But Arthur closed his eyes and shook his head, "I don't think I can."

"Why not," Alfred asked, though he knew the answer, and that's why he couldn't stop looking at Arthur.

Arthur turned to look at him but his eyes were narrowed in a glare, "Because you're leaving that's why!"

Tears started falling down Arthur's face then and he looked furious at the fact, "You-you've been acting like everything's fine. Then you went and said you'd help me become a musician and a librarian when we're probably never going to see each other again!"

Arthur's voice cracked at the end and he let out a sob, he furiously rubbed at his eyes, "So don't say things like that!"

"Don't cry, Arthur," Alfred panicked, feeling his chest ache, "I can't stand it when you cry!"

"Then what am I supposed to do," Arthur demanded bitterly, giving up on wiping away his tears, "It hurts and I hate it and I don't want you to go."

Alfred brought his arms around Arthur and clutched him to his chest, fighting back his own wave of tears, "Just forget…Don't worry about any of that right now, just hold me."

Arthur's shoulders shook as he wrapped his arms around Alfred, "Alfred," he moaned into his shoulder, "Alfred." Alfred thought he could hear both their hearts breaking. But he didn't say anything; he just tightened his grip on Arthur and didn't think. He just felt Arthur in his arms, remembered all the joy the summer had brought, and how much he was in love with this Brit.

…_I found it…_


	12. Chapter 12

Ch. 12:

Arthur thought he had known pain when Francis had left him all those years ago.

He had been wrong.

Standing at the airport with Alfred and Matthew, a pile of luggage at their feet…this was true pain. But Arthur had shed enough tears last night, at the park and back at Alfred's hotel where they had spent one last night together.

Arthur felt so much sympathy for Matthew who was looked at the airport entrance with an unreadable look, Francis had not come to wish him farewell and Arthur made a mental note that when he did see Francis again he'd beat him up for Matthew's sake just as much as his own.

"I'm going to go on ahead with our stuff," Matthew told his brother finally, his eyes purposefully blank.

Alfred looked at his brother with concern, "Okay, I'll catch up with you."

"Goodbye, Arthur," Matthew said politely as he picks up the luggage, "It was really nice meeting you."

"You too, Matthew," Arthur replied, feeling guilty for not trying to know Alfred's brother better, "Make sure your brother doesn't hassle anyone on the way back."

Matthew smiled softly, "Of course." Then he turned and left.

"I'll make sure to give Francis a sound thrashing when I see him next," Arthur promised.

"Thanks," Alfred replied, then swallowed awkwardly. "So…I guess this is it, huh?"

Arthur nodded, feeling a lump in his throat but he refused to weep, "It is, I'm glad to have met you Alfred."

"I was lucky to meet you," Alfred breathed.

"I was luckier," Arthur countered, smiling painfully. "I'm sorry we didn't find the best sight in London."

"Actually, we did," Alfred smiled and pulled out two slips of paper, handing them to Arthur, "I wrote down the directions; go check it out after I leave."

Arthur thought he would choke, after he left… "Why can't you just tell me what it is?"

"That would ruin the surprise," Alfred winked, "Trust me it'll be worth it."

_How can you smile like that? Is your world not breaking like mine is?_

Alfred pulled Arthur into his arms and Arthur realized that his arms were shaking, he quickly returned the embrace. "I'm going to miss you so much, Arthur. But I'll friend you on Facebook, we'll keep in touch."

"Right," Arthur replied, but it wouldn't be the same again, would it? He'd never get to touch Alfred again; never get to kiss him…

As if he had read his thoughts Alfred pulled out of Arthur's embrace and ran his fingers lightly over Arthur's lips before kissing him. Arthur took the whole kiss in; it was so much harder not to cry when he knew that this was the last one.

The kiss felt like it was over in seconds and Alfred pulled away, his eyes dark, "I have to go now or I'll miss my flight.

"Okay," Arthur breathed.

_No, don't go!_

"Have a safe flight."

_Please stay here!_

Alfred looked like he wanted to say more, but he only nodded and practically ran in the direction Matthew had left, turning to give Arthur one last wave.

Then he was gone.

Suddenly Arthur couldn't breathe; he clutched the two sheets of paper to his chest and all but ran out of there. He couldn't handle it, it was too painful!

"It's not fair," he sobbed quietly, taking deep breathes once outside. It was then he noticed a familiar blond stranger across the street and his grief switched to anger. Shoving the two pieces of paper in his pocket he marched across the street to Francis.

"You have some nerve-" Arthur began.

"DON'T START," Francis snapped and so viscously that Arthur's mouth clamped shut and he saw that Francis's eyes were red.

"I know that I'm a bastard, okay," Francis continued, "I know I'm the worst human being in the world and I just let the best thing that ever happened to me leave, I know that Arthur. So don't rub it in."

Arthur blinked a couple of times, too stunned to speak, this wasn't the Francis he had spent a year with, this one was much more vulnerable, this one could cry, this one could regret and feel guilt.

"Fine, I won't," Arthur said bitterly, "But if Matthew was the best thing that ever happened to you why did you let him leave?"

Francis looked away, his eyes glittering with anger and sadness, "I'm not like you Arthur; I'm not someone who commits. It's a serious and terrifying thing."

Arthur smirked arrogantly, "You're right, you don't commit."

Francis glared back at him, "I wouldn't be all high and mighty if I were you, we're not that much different."

Arthur took a threatening step forward, a growl in his throat, "I am _nothing_ like you."

"Did you not just let Alfred go," Francis demanded, "Was he not that important to you?"

"Shut up," Arthur snapped, "He was a better person than you'll EVER BE!"  
"Yet you let him go," Francis smiled with resentment, "You really are not that much different than me." Then he turned and left.

Arthur was tempted to strangle the retreating French man but decided it wasn't worth the effort, instead he pulled out the pieces of paper Alfred had given him, the last thing he had of Alfred's, and read it:

_I have found the best sight in London! _

_I bet you didn't think I could do it but I proved you wrong! Now, I'm sure you're just dying to see it for yourself so simply follow the directions at the bottom of the page and you'll get there!_

_P.s. Don't read the other page until you reach the sight. _

Despite the pain in his chest Arthur smiled as he started following the directions, passing streets and houses and people. As he walked he continually wondered what Alfred's supposed "best sight" was. Could it have been someplace they had visited, like the London Eye or Big Ben? Or was it someplace Alfred had found by himself?

Arthur blinked in surprise when he reached the destination and saw the supposed best sight…the lamppost. That bloody lamppost Alfred had dragged him out in the middle of the night to see, the lamppost that had a romantic myth to it; the lamppost where he had first been kissed by Alfred.

He looked down at the paper again at the last line of directions: _Look at the lamppost then read the second note._

Arthur furrowed his brow in confusion but did as the paper said; he looked at the ebony lamppost, wondering what made it so import-

Then he saw it…sloppily engraved in the metal was a four letter word…_Arty_.

Arthur pulled out the second page; on it were an arrow pointing up and then the words "is the best sight in London"

Arthur looked up at the lamppost, down at the paper, then back again. He felt tears rising as he realized what Alfred was saying…

_Arty is the best sight in London.  
_ "Alfred, you idiot," Arthur laughed before falling to his knees and letting out a sob, "You stupid, stupid idiot." Leave it to him to do something so romantic, to leave before he could see Arthur's reaction, to do something that made Arthur so happy and so sad at the exact same time.

"I love you…"

The moment Arthur muttered those words he knew it was the truth, he loved Alfred F. Jones, he loved a silly, childish American. He loved the one person that had made Arthur feel so special and cherished in a matter of days, he loved him, he loved him, he loved him… And he was going to get him back.

Arthur took a deep breath as he entered his father's office, he admired the man greatly. He always did, and he loved him too, he wanted to make him proud. But now…Arthur realized that Alfred was right, and that some things were more important.

"Something wrong, Arthur," his father looked up with a warm, loving smile. He loved Arthur because Arthur was his son, not because he thought Arthur would be his protégé. The fact gave Arthur courage and he spoke, "No…it's just, we need to talk."


	13. Chapter 13

Ch. 13:

Alfred sat on the porch of his family's house; well it was more his and Matthew's house now. His parents had given them the house after they had graduated high school and they had moved to the city. But Alfred really enjoyed the house, it was surrounded by acres of beautiful thick trees, the house was like a giant log cabin and there was even a lake in the back yard, it was a fun place. But a month after returning to London Alfred didn't think it was fun at all.

Both he and Matthew had returned in a depressed state but his brother kept saying he was fine and always tried to keep the mood light, but he wasn't fooling anyone. Alfred would've liked to help but he was distracted by his own misery, how he couldn't get that giant-brow Brit out of his head. Many times (during the plane ride home all he could do was stare at his very first picture of Arthur which now burned a hole in his wallet) Alfred had seriously considered pulling out his savings and going back to London, but every time he went to count the money he'd remember that he had to stay. He couldn't leave his brother, who was in denial about being heartbroken; he couldn't just up and leave his parents either. And then there was that stupid insecurity that if Alfred went he wouldn't be welcomed. He knew it was stupid but he couldn't help but feel that while he was getting eaten up by anxiety and heartache Arthur had gotten over it, maybe even gotten back together with Francis. Just the thought of that made Alfred sick.

"I'm going down to the lake," Matthew's quiet and depressed voice came from behind him.

But the moment Alfred looked over his shoulder his brother forced that fake smile back in place, "It's a lovely day after all."

"Yeah, it is," Alfred said, "Just don't jump in."

Matthew rolled his eyes, his smile still painful and headed down to the lake, "I'll see you later."

"See ya," Alfred said, wishing there was something he could to cheer up his brother, but Alfred was suffering from a broken heart too.

Taking a deep breath Alfred closed his eyes and leaned back, listening to the wind and birds, feeling the gentle breeze. His home really was beautiful…he just wished he could share it…

The sound of wheels on gravel made Alfred peek an eye open, he then opened both eyes with surprise when he saw a taxi park next to his mailbox. His parents hadn't said they were coming to visit did they?

Alfred stood up with shock when the passenger door opened and out ran Francis, Alfred's jaw dropped.

Francis spotted Alfred and rushed over to him, he looked wild for a second and Alfred wondered if he should run the other way (he also noticed that he was carrying a rose in his hand).

"Where's Mathieu," he panted, looking on edge and desperate.

Alfred was shocked by the frenchy's sudden appearance that Alfred pointed out to the lake before he could think better of it, immediately Francis raced down to the water and out of sight.

Grumbling from the taxi made Alfred turned back around to see who else was getting out of the car and his heart stopped.

There he was, right here, _there he was_.

Arthur pulled the last of the luggage out of the taxi which quickly zoomed off, Alfred thought he could hear him mumble something about bloody American roads and drivers.

"…Arthur," Alfred suddenly couldn't breathe or move, "…Is that really you?"

Arthur looked up at him with those beautiful green eyes Alfred thought he would never see again. Arthur's lips tugged into a sweet smile and his eyes started to well up, "…Alfred," he whispered.

"ARTHUR!" Alfred broke into a huge grin and his legs could suddenly move, he ran to Arthur, wrapping the beautiful Brit into his arms and spinning him around joyfully.

Arthur had dropped the luggage the moment Alfred had grabbed him and now he wrapped his arms tightly around Alfred's neck, his shoulders shaking and a breathy, relieved laugh escaping him. "Alfred," he said joyfully, "I missed you so much."

Alfred stopped spinning but didn't let Arthur go, "Did you get my message?"

"Yes, you git," Arthur punched Alfred's arm, his eyes annoyed but his smile still in place, "I don't know why you couldn't have just told me."

Alfred chuckled easily, not minding the abuse, Arthur was here! With him! He had missed him! He was happy to see him again! "I thought that was way more romantic."

"Speaking of…" Arthur took a deep breath, looking like he was summoning all his courage, then after kissing Alfred's cheek, brought his lips to the American's ear.

"…I love you, Alfred."

The world seemed to stop on its axis and Alfred's mouth started to hurt he was smiling so hard, he eyesight starting going blurry too but he didn't care. His face was also hot and Alfred knew he was blushing, but he didn't mind in the slightest.

"R-really," he stammered, "You-you mean it."

Arthur buried his head in Alfred's shoulder and nodded, "Yes…ever since the day you left…I've known."

Alfred tried not to let his voice crack as he spoke, "T-that's great! Me too! I mean…I love you too." Tears were sliding down Alfred's cheeks by now and he imagined he looked like an overgrown infant.

Alfred felt Arthur's tears on his skin as the Brit held him tighter, "I just…when you left I thought I'd never see you again…and I couldn't live with that thought…So I came to you. "

"Wait," Alfred looked at the luggage at their feet then pulled Alfred back so he could see his face, "You mean…you're staying HERE!?"

Arthur blinked and he looked a little unsure, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, "I mean…if you'll have me…and Francis."

"What's he doing here anyway," Alfred asked slightly testy, looking to the spot where both the frog and Matthew had disappeared.

"Well, I guess your brother must be quite the catch. To so enchant that French tramp that the frog would fly across an entire ocean to get to him," Arthur chuckled, only slightly bitter.

"He's not a big a catch as you," Alfred pulled him into a tight bear hug, "You're great, beautiful, funny, hot, slim, shorter than me, and absolutely AMAZING and now I have you all to myself!" He smiled down at Arthur, "And by the way that means yes, I'll have you and everything that comes with you."

Arthur was starting to cry again but he smiled through the tears, "Even the fact we will be drinking more _hot_ tea than coffee?"

Alfred blinked then let out a loud suffering sigh, "Only for you…_Arty_"

Arthur trailed his lips against Alfred's grinning mouth, "I had hoped you'd say yes..._Alfie._"

_Fin._


End file.
